Neal's Secret
by lostinspacexx3
Summary: Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to try harder to figure out what it is.  Not Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Wow, I haven't posted anything in a while. I'm really sorry about that. Forgive me? Pwease? :3

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><p><strong>Title :: <strong>Neal's Secret  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own the boys.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

When Neal entered the FBI building that morning an uneasy feeling washed over him as what seemed to be the entire floor fell quiet. He quickly gave a glance around the office. Everyone seemed to try and not look obivous while whispering about him - even though it was insanely obvious to Neal.

He took a seat at his desk trying not to feel offended that people were talking about him. What could they be talking about anyways? He hadn't done anything. Hell, he'd just gotten in the office. He glanced over towards Diana, who was standing by Jones' desk. She gave him a concerned look, as if she wanted to tell him something but couldn't yet. Neal reacted with a confused one in her direction, questioning what was going on.

"Neal." The demand was made from the balcony - loud and clear. The conman looked in it's direction to see Peter standing there, he looked angry. Very angry. That uneasy feeling grew quickly in Neal's chest making him feel a little sick. The Agent pointed directly to him then motioned for him to come to his office. He quickly followed orders and all but ran to the stairs. All eyes on him.

After entering the office Neal closed the door. "You...wanted to see me..." Neal cautiously stated. Peter turned from looking over the city through the window, to glare at the other man.

"We need to have a talk." His voice was flat, Neal couldn't get any sign from it about how much trouble he was in for whatever he did.

"Peter, I didn't do anything." Neal said quickly, preparing to defend himself. "Don't." Peter said, his lips forming a tight line. Oh yeah, he was upset. Neal gave him a confused look, questions filling his head. What the hell was going on that had everyone so on edge today? Peter stood behind his desk, throwing a file across in Neal's direction. The other man picked up the file from the edge of the desk, not wanting to open it to see what was inside.

"Open it." Peter's eyes never left Neal's as he followed the order and opened the folder. Neal didn't even look at the document; just the picutre that was paperclipped in the corner. His gut twisted, immediately making him feel more sick.

"I found it on my desk this morning." Peter informed. Neal couldn't speak - not that he had much to say even if he could talk. His eyes couldn't leave the picture from the file. He could feel his heart against his chest, attempting to break through bones. Why were they looking into _Him_? He was sure the documents answered that question easily but he couldn't move his eyes from that photo - that face. Those dark eyes and smug smile in the mugshot like the man owned the world.

He looked up at Peter after a moment, mask up; hiding any secrets or emotions from his face and eyes - including the absolute fear running through his blood.

Peter tried to study his look but couldn't get anything from it. "Neal. He's you're _ex-cellmate_. Broke out of prison _two_ days ago? Come on." Peter said, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head in disapproval. He didn't really seem angry, just upset about the situation. Neal placed the file back on the Agents desk. "I didn't have anything to do about this."

Peter gave him one of those looks; the type that said he wanted - badly - to believe him but just...couldn't under the circumstances. A look that wanted the truth. "Is this what the entire department is talking about? I had nothing to do with this Peter. I promise you that." Neal pointed angrily down at the file on Peter's desk and then stormed out of the office. The Agent watched for a few moments as the other man left.

Neal was crossing the floor, almost to his desk, before he heard his name called from the balcony again. He stopped in his tracks, sighing, and turning around. He knew everyones eyes were on him and Peter, he could feel it.

"Go home for today." Peter met his eyes, Neal could see the concern masked past the demanding tone. Ordering him to go home meant he'd be by later to check up on him and talk this out without the wandering eyes of the department floor. Neal held eye contact for a moment before finishing the show for everyone and storming out of the building.

Peter watched him go, feeling bad, hoping - _wishing_ - Neal had nothing to do with this.

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><p>I start school tomorrow! <em>Junior Year<em>. I really don't want to go but, it's back to not caring and writing during class time. Yay! And I'm officially back. I apologize again for not posting for a while there but, it's all good now. So, let's get this story started. :)


	2. Chapter 2

This is a little late, but I started school on Monday and I apologize for not getting this up sooner. But...I love you(: Review if you'd like..please :)

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Two.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> Got nothin'  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

Neal walked through the door of his loft, slamming the door shut. Mozzie - so didn't - jump from his seat at the table. "Neal?" He asked, turning around. Questioning eyes meeting the other's. Why was the man was back at home, hadn't he just left for work?

"Hey Moz." Neal immediately apologized. "I'm sorry I scared you."

The shorter man shook his head, dismissing the action and looking back down at the few hundred piece puzzle on the table. "Ha, I wasn't scared. I don't get scared."

Neal smiled at the back of him, knowing that he jumped when the door was clsoed. He walked over, sitting at the table. "Why are you home so soon?" Mozzie asked, glancing up at his friend. "Peter sent me back." From Neal's tone and the distant look in his eyes - not to mention the slamming of the door, which never happens - Mozzie knew not to press the subject. When Neal wanted to talk, Mozzie would be there to listen - they both knew that. Now just wasn't the time. He was obviously still too angry about the situation and Moz didn't ask questions, he never did. Regardless of how much he wanted to. So Mozzie went back to putting his puzzle together and Neal sat quietly, watching in amusement as Mozzie's silent frustrations grew when he couldn't get the right pieces to fit where he wanted.

-x-

Peter was seated at his desk, staring down at the file with disgust. He didn't know what to think, what to do, how to handle this. The break-out had to have had _something_ to do with Neal, he could feel it. He just didn't know how - yet. The circumstances were just too convincing. It was his ex-cellmate for crying out loud.

He felt angry. Okay, maybe not angry, just...upset, disappointed, maybe mad at himself for not seeing something like this coming. He thought he was getting through to Neal. He thought Neal finally saw that there were other ways to live in this world. He had hoped things had changed. He felt disappointed, but most of all...he was _hurt_. Hurt that - if Neal did have something to do with it - he went against him, went behind his back. He used Peter as leverage. That's what hurt.

How could he look past this? He couldn't just let this kind of thing go. Hughes was all over him when the case came in. Concerned that they hadn't been watching Neal close enough - that they shouldn't have trusted him in the first place.

That wasn't true though. Peter did trust him, against better judgement and Neal trusted him, against his own better judgement. That's how they worked.

Peter slammed the case folder closed, his mental fight becoming annoying. He glanced away from his desk for the first time in a few hours. It was getting dark out now, he had to go and talk to Neal about this.

-x-

Neal felt anxious, the last four or five paintings showed that easily. Mozzie watched silently from the table, sipping at June's perfectly aged wine, as Neal worked fast on his artwork - something he didn't normally do. Neal liked to take his time, it's how he relaxed. However, today was different. He was fuming, upset. How could Peter think he had something to do with this? How could he? He hadn't done anything! He'd been good these last few weeks. Atleast, he thought he was being good. Peter barely let him even explain anything. Just kicked him out and told him to go home. He didn't believe him when he said he had nothing to do with it. It was ridiculous. Just completely ridic-

"_Neal_." Mozzie called, half worried his friend's tough brushstrokes would rip right through the canvas. Mozzie's voice pulled Neal from his thoughts and he immediately calmed down. "Sorry." He whispered, placing the brush down and slowly walking away from the easel.

"Neal. You know I'm here to listen. I'm not going to make you tell me what went on within the half hour you were at work today. But, I'm going to reinforce that you can. Why don't you get some sleep. I'll come back in the morning." Mozzie proposed the idea. Neal met his eyes. "Thanks Moz." He said sincerely. The other man stood from his chair, giving him a smile. "Seriously though Neal, relax and sleep." He calmly ordered before exiting the loft.

Neal stood in the silence for a few moments, staring at the painting before him. It wasn't his best work and Mozzie was right. He needed to relax. He cleaned his hands of the extra paint and turned to walk towards his bed until a knock on his door caught his attention. It couldn't have been Mozzie again, he'd just walked out. Neal swallowed hard, wondering who it would be.

"Neal, open up." Peter's voice came through, making Neal a bit more angry. He had nerve showing up here now. He knew they would talk out of the building, he knew that Peter would stop by, he was just hoping it would have been tomorrow.

Another knock. "Neal, come on. I know you're in there."

Neal quickly opened the door, making eye contact with the Agent. "What?" He asked with a glare fixed on the man before him.

"We need to talk." Peter stated. Neal stared at him for a few moments, contemplating whether or not he should let the other man in. "I didn't do this Peter." Neal defended himself quickly again. The Agent sighed, looking down. "You don't believe me." The pain in Neal's voice hurt Peter to the bone.

"What am I supposed to think Neal?" He noticed the hurt that flashed through the con's eyes before he could hide it away. "You practically lived with the guy. He broke out, almost the same way you did."

Neal shook his head. "Think what you want." Neal tried to keep his voice steady and sound more defiant than he actually was. "But, I didn't do this. I need to sleep. Go home." Neal quickly shut the door, dismissing the rest of the conversation. Peter caught the waver in his voice. "You better show up to work tomorrow." He called through the door, trying to act angrier than he was - like Neal.

The conversation ended there and Peter headed home, questions filling both their heads for the rest of the night.

This wasn't going to be easy.

-x-

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><p>So, there's Chapter Two. (: I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just skipped out on doing my AP Advanced Algebra homework to write this :) I love being back in 'school'. Haha. Night Guys! Review pwease.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey Guys(: Chapter Threeeee. I've been having trouble with my internet, which is why this wasn't up earlier. Stupid Bellsouth. But, here you go! Enjoy, review if you want.

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><p><strong>Title :: <strong>Neal's Secret - Chapter Three.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own anything - except _my_ character...  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

Early the next morning when Mozzie came to the door of Neal's place he could tell the other con was already awake. The strong sense of coffee filtered through the wood of the door. He didn't knock, he never did.

"Morning." He called out, shutting the door, even though Neal wasn't within eyesight. "Hey Moz." Neal's voice came from the closet. He appeared through the door that lead into the rest of the loft, in full suit. "You're going back?" Mozzie sat at the table, the puzzle from yesterday still in place with a few more pieces in place. Neal poured coffe, gesturing towards Moz if he wanted any. He shook his head. Neal seated beside his friend. He knew the question was still lingering in the air and he waited a few moments, contemplating whether he should actually go today, before answering. "I have to."

Mozzie didn't respond, proving he was against the idea. "Moz. Come on, talk to me." Neal pleaded softly after moments of silence. Mozzie's shoulders fell, finally looking over at him. "I just...maybe it isn't smart." He said. Neal looked at him confused. Mozzie sighed, unable to explain his reasoning. Neal looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I...I was going to wait until you told me whatever happened. But...I let my curiousity get the best of me - which I shouldn't have and I apologize - but, I did...a little digging." Mozzie glanced at Neal. His demeanor was calm, but his shoulders tensed. Mozzie looked at the puzzle for a few moments. "I didn't get into the _whole_ thing. All...all I know is that..._he_...is...out." Mozzie looked down as Neal sat back in his chair. "That's okay, Moz." He reassured as he played with the handle of his coffee mug. "Really? You're not mad?" Mozzie asked. Neal shook his head. "You looking into it sounds better than having me tell you. I'm sorry I didn't yesterday." Neal met his eyes, sincere. Mozzie felt relieved he wasn't mad about it. "I just...I couldn't let it go. It was upsetting you really bad and I thought I could wait...I just...couldn't." Mozzie still tried to explain his reasoning, feeling as if it wasn't enough. Neal really didn't mind though, like he said, it was hell of a lot easier than actually explaining it out.

"How much do you know?" Neal finally asked. Mozzie shrugged. "I know he's you're ex-cellmate. I know he broke out. I know Peter got the case. I know - well, I could tell by your behavior - you guys aren't on speaking terms at the moment. Which leads me to believe he thinks you have something to do with it." Mozzie explained. Neal nodded, slightly happy his secret was still a secret, happy he didn't have to go into it. Mozzie shifted uncomfortably after a while, catching Neal's attention. "What Moz?" He asked. "I just...I have one question." He said. They met eyes again, Neal noticed Mozzie's were concerned.

"He...he became you're ex-cellmate..._before_...you broke out. So...what happened...that...that switched you into a single cell?" Mozzie asked carefully, hesitating. "Some things are better left unanswered Moz." Neal said quietly before finishing up his coffee and standing to leave for work.

"Hey, Neal." Mozzie called from the table before he was all the way out the door. "You know you can tell me." He said. Neal nodded. "Soon Moz. Just...not yet."

-x-

Neal walked into the FBI building, anxiousness playing at his nerves. Things got quieter when he sat at his desk, much like the way they did before.

Diana walked up to him a few minutes later and offered a smile. He couldn't return it, even if he wanted to. "Peter wants to see you." She said. Neal nodded, standing silently and walking around his desk. She caught his arm, holding him back a moment. "Things will be okay." She whispered before letting him go and walking to her own workspace. Neal wanted to believe her, really he did, there was just no way he could. Things were not going to be okay despite hopeful beliefs.

He shut the doors of Peter's office and took a seat. The Agent glanced at him before going back to what was on his desk. "Morning." He said. Neal didn't respond, afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth. Peter signed off on the last document before closing the folder and looking up at his consultant.

"Tell me about him."

Neal remained silent for several moments. "I don't have anything to tell you."

Peter's eyes were challenging. "I'm telling the truth." Neal defended. Peter stood, motioning him to follow. The pair left his office and headed into the conference room where Diana, Jones, Hughes and a few other personnal were already seated. Neal took note of the polygraph equipment set up on the table. He stayed close to the doorway, slightly in disbelief. "Really Peter?" He asked, only a bit hurt that his words didn't matter. They needed _full_ proof. Peter looked at him, a sorry expression on his features. "If you don't have anything to hide, why would it matter?" Hughes asked. Peter felt a bit guilty at Neal's shocked expression with his words. Peter should be able to trust Neal's words, stand up for him, but Hughes demanded the polygraph, it wasn't his choice. The conman sat at the table silently, allowing Diana to hook everything up. Peter sat beside Jones. "Are you ready?" Jones asked after Diana sat down and he looked at him. "Don't have much of a choice." He commented under his breath. "Hands on the table. You're not cheating your way out of this one." Hughes commented. Neal complied, putting his hands out infront of him.

They went through the routine, Neal setting a basis trial for true and false statements. Jones nodded towards Peter, telling him they could start. Peter's eyes met Neal's.

"Do you know Samuele Russo?" Peter asked.

Neal gave him a blank look. Peter knew they were cellmates, was there really a point to that question? He answered with less annoyance in his voice than he felt. "Yes."

Jones nodded at Peter, it was the truth. 'No shit.' Neal couldn't help but think. "Did you have anything to do with Mr. Russo's breakout?"

Neal held Peter's gaze. "No." Jones nodded once more. "Has Mr. Russo contacted you between the time of his breakout and now?"

"No." Neal's lips formed into a tight line, getting annoyed. "Have you tried to contact him?" Peter asked. "Of course not, Peter." Neal said. Jones nodded. Peter stared at his CI for a few moments, studying him. They played through a few more questions, most about if Neal was involved or not. By the second hour Hughes and the other Agents left the room to work on the case.

"Will you help us find him?" Peter asked after a long silence once everyone but Neal, Jones, Diana and him were left. Neal didn't respond. The Agent waited a few moments. "Neal?" He asked. "Peter, I really don't want to be involved in this." He said quietly, avoiding the others' eyes and looking at his hands as he played with his fingers. Peter glanced at the graph that was keeping track of Neal's words. He _really_ didn't want to get involved.

"Neal, we'll need you on this one. You lived with the guy. You know more about him than we do." Peter said. Neal's mind wrapped around those words - _you know more about him than we do_ - They were right about that, Neal knew more about him than _he_ wanted to, than anybody would want to. He stayed silent, fighting back the visions creeping on his mind about the other man. "Fine." He agreed, pushing away his memories and knowing if he helped than they would catch him faster and this could be over. "I'll help.." Neal regretted the words, but he knew it would work for the best.

Diana unhooked everything and her and Jones put the polygraph away then she passed Neal a case folder, which he didn't really need, before they all sat down to begin working on profiles and reasonings.

Neal couldn't concentrate though. He had the file open but his eyes wouldn't read the words. His eyes wouldn't leave that damned picture. The damned mugshot. The man's eyes were as dark and emotionless in the photo as when Neal saw them last. He didn't want to go into those memories though, not here, infront of them all. He was scared of what would happen.

After half an hour, Jones and Diana got up for coffee and bathroom stops. Peter notcied that Neal hadn't moved at all since they started. "Neal." He called. No response. "Neal." He tried again, his voice reaching to the con's ears and making him look up. "What?" He asked quickly. "Are you okay?" Peter asked. Neal nodded. "I'm fine."

It was a lie. They both knew it, Peter didn't need a polygraph for that one. The Agent made a note to talk to Diana about it later.

He was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

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><p>Well, there's chapter three! Hope you liked it. Review if you want, please. Goodnight!(:<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Hey there, Guys(: I've been out of school for the last two days even though it's the second week of school...and I wrote this in the last few hours. Chapterr fourr. Enjoy! Review :P

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> bambalambaloo. own nothin'.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

Neal had woken up with a new text message from Peter earlier that morning.

The Agent gave him the day off, assuring him that nothing was wrong and that it wasn't just to keep him away from the office.

It was because Peter felt bad, both men knew that without addressing it, he knew that Neal was in perfect condition to be working on the case after the last two days and he allowed his CI to take a day and relax, catch up on sleep, and try not to worry about things too much. Despite Peter explaining this, Neal did feel a little like it was to keep him away from the case long enough until they really needed him. Strangely, he didn't mind. Peter was looking out for him, and gave him a free day. There wasn't much he could complain about since he didn't want to truly be involved in the case anyways.

Neal settled on sketching the half done puzzle at the kitchen table.

-x-

Peter had called his team back into the conference room, wanting an update on the case.

Jones came in first and had informed him that Russo hadn't shown up on the grid yet, they had no trace of him, they had no knowledge of where he could have gone. The fugitive had no known family he could get to, had no known aliases or hiding places. He was just gone. Peter looked down, not out of disappointment but, out of anger. How could the guy just go underground like that? Without even a glimpse on _anyone's_ radar?

Diana walked in, confident, Peter immediately knew - well, hoped - she had something.

"Where's Neal?" She asked, stopping at the end of the glass table. "At home. He's not coming in today." Peter said. Diana nodded, not questioning, and passed them both case folders. "What's this?" Jones asked before opening it. "Sam Russo's full record." Her hands fell to her hips. "Full? I thought we had that?" Peter said confused. Diana shook her head. "No, we..well, we kind of did. Not all the files got sent through. We got his list of convictions. Not arrests records. " She said. Jones and Peter glanced at eachother before simultaneously opening the file together.

"Oh my god." Jones said quietly. "How could we not be informed about...any of this?" Peter asked no one in particular, angry.

Diana shrugged. "There was apparently a problem with the computers. Files weren't fully backed up and a few got lost for a while. But, here they are now."

"He was arrested multiple times on sexual harassment, assault charges, kidnapping, sexual assault...and murder." Jones read out loud. Peter stared down at the file. "Never convicted of those though. He was picked up on some type of major drug smuggling and possession charge." Diana said. Peter placed the file back on the table. Neal hadn't mentioned the missing arrests when he read over the file. He had to have known about them.

"Peter, I have an idea." Diana said. Peter looked over at his Agent. "Neal isn't here. And he's...well, pretty tentative about helping us anyways but, they were cellmates. So what about their cell guard?"

Jones looked at his boss for conformation. Peter thought about it a moment before nodding. "You guys set that up. I want that guard here within the hour." Peter stood, collecting his jacket and slipping it back over his shoulders. Jones nodded, immediately bringing up contact information on his laptop. "Where are you gonna go?" Diana asked. "Have a chat with Neal. There's some things we need to discuss." Peter said, exiting the conference room. He headed out of the building and towards June's place.

-x-

Neal was back in bed, attempting to get back to sleep. He didn't sleep much the night before, waking up almost every twenty minutes after he would fall back asleep. He could close his eyes, he could get comfortable, he could get sleepy, but he couldn't sleep.

A knock on his door pulled him out of bed, lazily dragging his feet. "Moz," He whined slightly. "I'm tired-" He started saying as he pulled open the door before he realized who was standing in the doorway. "Peter."

"Nice underwear." Peter commented with a smile. Neal glanced down at his white polka-dotted navy blue silk boxers - Mozzie had got them for him during Christmas - before looking back up at his friend. "Thanks..."

After a moment of silence, Neal stepped back to allow him into the apartment. Peter waited while Neal slipped on a pair of sweat pants from by his bed. "What is it?" Neal asked. "We need to have a talk." Peter took a seat at the table, glancing at the sketch of the puzzle before looking back up at Neal. "About?" Neal sat across from him.

"Sam."

Neal's gut twisted at the mention of the name. "Why didn't you tell me about his record?" Peter asked. "I thought you had his record." Neal looked at him confused. "I mean...he was...in prison...that usually stems from arrests-" Peter cut him off. "No, we got sent his conviction record. Things he was put in prison or on probation for. Not his accusations." Peter said. "...since when are they different? Don't files normally come with all that information?" Neal asked. "Normally, but, there was apparently a problem over in the precinct that caught him." Peter said. "Why is it important?" Neal asked. "Because, out of fifteen accusations, most were violent and-or sexual assault." Peter said. Neal's gut twisted, again, he hated those types of words.

"And?"

"Well, that would've been nice of you to share with the class instead of Diana having to dig to find it." Peter said. Neal looked down. "Sorry." Neal apologized.

"My point is. The problem in the precinct seemed to have happened right after I told you about the case." Neal looked at him. "Right after I sent you home." Peter's eyes met Neal's and the con knew where this was going.

"Peter. I didn't." Neal felt hurt, being accused of something he wouldn't do - again. "Ask Mozzie. He was here! I didn't do anything! If this is a precursor to how the entire case is going to be handled - me getting accused whenever something happens, then I don't want to be a part of it. Less than I wanted to in the first place." Neal said, angry now. Peter watched the outburst silently, knowing Neal had to vent at one point. Neal's body seemed to relax after that and he looked down, embarrassed.

"I believe you."

Neal immediately looked back up. "You do?" He asked. Peter nodded. "I do." Neal let out a breath, leaning back in his chair. "I have to get back to the office. I'll call later." Peter said, standing up. Neal nodded, resting his elbows on the table.

The Agent was almost out the door when Neal called out his name. Peter turned around and met his eyes. "Thanks."

Peter smiled. "Just...one thing." He said. Neal looked at him. "How did you not know?" Peter asked. "I just...I didn't know about all of it. I didn't know he had been arrested for those types of things." Neal said quietly. "How could you not, though? You lived with the guy." Peter said. "Yeah, you know, you keep saying that. And it's true. I lived with him - in prison. You don't become _room_mates in prison Peter. You become _in_mates."

Peter looked at him for a moment before nodding and leaving the apartment. Neal let out a shaky breath before diving back into his sketches to distract him from the oncoming memories.

-x-

After stopping and grabbing something to eat, Peter came back to the office, noticing another person upstairs with his team. Dark skin and heavy set, he automatically knew who it was.

He entered the room to see Bobby, one of the secuirty guards from Super Max. "Peter, this is Officer-" Diana started before Peter smiled. "I know."

"Good to see you, Agent Burke." He said, reaching out his hand. Peter shook it. "How are you Bobby?" Peter greeted. The guard nodded. "Good. Under the circumstances. Why did you need me?" He asked. "Take a seat." The four of them spread out around the table.

"Samuele Russo." Peter said. Bobby looked over at him sharply. "What about him?" He asked. Peter took note of his cold tone. "You're aware he broke out, correct?" He asked. Bobby nodded.

"You were the guard working his cellblock correct?" Diana asked. Bobby looked over at her. "I was. For a little while." He said. "You worked that floor when he was cellmates with Neal Caffrey?" She asked. Bobby nodded, again. "Is that what this is about?" He asked, looking back at Peter. "What do you mean?" The Agent asked. "Him and Neal? Is that why you needed me here?" Peter glanced at Jones and Diana before looking back at the security guard.

"Do you think Neal would help Sam break out?" Diana asked after an awkward moment.

Bobby met her eyes. "With all due respect ma'am, do you really mean that?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. "Neal? Neal Caffrey? Dark hair, blue eyes, the painter? Are you sure we are talking about the same kid here?" Bobby asked, looking at Peter. The Agent gave him a confused look, what would make it so surprising if he had?

Bobby shook his head. "I can tell you, Neal Caffrey would not - in a million years - help Sam Russo escape from prison."

"How can you be so sure?" Diana asked. Bobby looked around the table at all the Agents. "He...never...told any of you...?" Bobby looked confused. "Told us what?" Peter asked, curiosity sparking. Bobby glanced at everyone again, Neal had to have been keeping this a secret, which means he should shut his mouth too. "You'll have to talk to him about that..." Bobby looked down. "Oh, no, you can't shut me out. What is it Bobby?" Peter asked, leaning over the table. The guard looked a little concerned. "Really Peter, I'd like to tell you. I just...well, I can't. Not behind Neal's back."

"Bobby, if something happened then I need to know about it. Tell me." Peter said, more concerned than anything. "I...I can't tell you. But...I might be able to show you...okay, fine, but...Neal can never know I said or did anything. He'd never talk to me again." Bobby looked up at him. Peter nodded.

"I'll need to get someone to bring over some old security tapes." Bobby said. Peter nodded at Jones. "Agent Jones can help you with that." He said. Bobby looked the other Agent and nodded.

"Okay. But, like I said, Neal can't know it was me."

"Deal."

Peter thought back to Neal's words while Bobby, Jones and Diana worked over the computer.

_It's true. I lived with him - in prison. You don't become roommates in prison Peter. You become inmates_.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed it(: I'm making you wait for the secret... because I'm a terrible person. Haha but, I'm sorry. Review please! The next one will be up soon I promise(:<p>

And sorry, I just wanted to point out - Bobby, the security guard, is from the the Pilot episode. If anyone else remembered. That and...I really liked that last line -which is why it's in there twice. (: Love you.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey Guys(: this would have been up hours ago, because I figured I'd come home and publish it after school but I ended up making last minute plans and I'm just now getting home. But, here you go! (: Review, pwease. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Title :: <strong>Neal's Secret Chapter Five.  
><strong>Disclaimer :: <strong>Don't own them, not even Bobby ):  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

It was late in the day, Mozzie had stopped by with food and the two of them had a nice conversation.

Nice, because it had nothing to do with the case, nothing to do with work, they actually talked about art. Neal's art, Mozzie's _attempted_ pieces, and famous painters. Neal felt comfortable again. After his friend had left Neal had settled down and back into his painting.

When his cellphone rang, he answered it quickly, thinking it was Peter.

"Hey." Neal said casually.

"Neal."

The voice on the other line almost made Neal drop his cellphone and forced his heart, lungs, and mind to shutdown almost immediately. When his heart resumed beating, he swore it was almost twice as fast. His mind caught on next, reminding himself to actually breathe, and when he did the sudden gasp of air hurt his chest.

"Sam..." Neal whispered, voice barely audible to his own ears.

"I'm so happy you remember me." Sam said, his slight New York-Italian accent slipping in only a little. It had faded a bit over the years but hadn't completely left his voice. Neal could tell he was grinning. The statement shook Neal.

How could he forget him?

-x-

Peter had brought in coffee for Bobby while they were waiting for the tapes to get to the office. "So, Bobby, can you atleast give me a hint?" Peter asked, setting the cup down infront of him then taking his seat. Bobby shook his head. "I can't. Neal wouldn't want me doing this anyways. I _shouldn't_ be doing this anyways." The guard admitted, staring down at the drink on the table.

A younger agent walked through the doors after a few moments, placing a small box on the table. "Here you go, Agent Burke." He said. Peter signed off the forms and handed the tapes to Jones. His Agent set them up on the tv and Bobby looked down as they began to play.

-x-

"Wh-what do you want?" Neal asked, cursing himself silently for stuttering, and asking a stupid question.

"I think that's obvious."

Blue eyes slid closed, fear building in the man's chest. "There's alot of people after you, you know." Neal said after gaining control of his speaking habits again. "Oh right, you're little FBI buddy right? Tell me, _Nealie_, does he know about us?" Sam asked, his voice was menacing and Neal swallowed hard. That damned nickname. "No. He can't, because there _never_ was an _us_." He said harshly. A 'tsk tsk' noise came from the other end of the line. "Wrong answer, Neal. Don't worry though. I'll be with you soon. Just you wait." The line went dead before Neal could respond, not that he would know how to. The phone fell into his hand and he rested it against the table, staring at it.

Neal could feel himself begin to shake, begin to panic. Sam knew what his number was, which probably meant he knew _where_ he was. Which, wasn't a nice thought - it put Neal into even more of a panic. His breathing became painful, his lungs burning. Tears that he wouldn't let fall pricked at his eyes. This couldn't be happening.

-x-

Peter sat at the far end of the conference table, watching as Jones fumbled with the player. Once he got it up and running and sat down, Peter leaned back in his chair. He did feel a little weird about watching whatever was on the tapes, watching Neal. Bobby's eyes were focused on a very interesting spec on his coffee cup once Jones hit play.

_Neal, clad in his orange jumpsuit, walked down the aisle between cells and a block wall to get to the rec room. A shadowed figure had appeared at the camera's edge, causing the con to halt. His eyes were intense._ (Peter wondered if it could have been fear.) _Neal had said something, and the figure in the corner moved again. Neal took a step back before getting rushed and thrown hard against the wall. Neal's hands pushed at the other man in an attempted to fight back but the other man was larger, and stronger. Neal's arms were held down at his sides as lips were pressed roughly against his and the con pushed at the other convict forcefully - earning him a swift hit to the jaw. Once Neal was distracted by the blow he was picked up and forced into the closet beside them, still trying to force his way out of the other man's grip._

Peter glanced at Bobby, who's eyes were still trained on that very fascinating cup. Peter was now on edge, what _the hell_ had just happened? Nothing had gone on within shot for a few minutes, Jones fast forwarded quickly through the next twenty of no movement until Bobby came into view at the top of the screen as he glanced around cell's. Jones quickly hit play.

_Bobby had gotten at few steps closer into full view until the closet door reopened and someone stepped out. It was Sam Russo. Bobby and him made eye contact before the criminal walked away, smug smile on his face, and out of shot. Bobby had watched as he walked away before he looked at the closet, immediately bolting towards it. Swinging the door opening, he dived inside._

Peter sat further on the edge of his chair, watching the video intensely. It took all power he had not to hit something, break something.

_Bobby stepped out of the closet, calling down the hall before noticing no one else was around and he rushed back into the closet - which Neal hadn't come out of yet._

Jones stopped the tape, needing to not see more, turned his chair around and looked at his boss. Peter's eyes were focused on the screen, unable to look away from the stilled image of the security tape.

Diana and Jones were both focused on Peter, waiting for something to happen - some form of instruction or direction to do _something_, but no one could speak. They could barely think. Bobby finally looked up, glancing around at the group of completely shocked Agents. The silence grew to an eerily high point.

"He...he..." Peter didn't know what to say. Bobby looked over at him, seeing the amount of shock on his face. "What really happened in that closet?" Jones asked, not wanting to believe the whole story while he looked at Bobby.

"Neal got hurt."

"What _kind_ of hurt?" Diana asked, hoping and wishing it was just getting beat up.

Bobby looked down. "Really..._really_...hurt."

Peter put two and two together easily and slammed his hands on the table, furious. How hadn't he seen this coming? Why didn't Neal say anything? Why was he never told about it? Who the hell let this happen? Questions ran through his head, adding to his anger.

"I'm gonna kill him." Peter promised through clenched teeth and angry eyes.

-x-

Neal had ran from June's place, getting to the FBI building within minutes. His heart was still pounding, from the running and the fear. The ride up the elevator seemed painfully slow. When the doors opened the con bolted through the glass doors and across the bullpen. He made it to the conference room, sliding in through the door out of breath. Bobby immediately stood up, unknowing Neal was going to be here. "Peter." He breathed out, putting his hands on his knees with unfocused eyes. When he looked back up he noticed a familiar face. What was Bobby doing here?

Confusion crossed his eyes, looking at Peter. The Agent looked pissed and Neal almost fully regretted showing up. Why was he in trouble again?

"Neal." Peter said, his voice didn't sound as harsh as the con had expected. Neal looked around the room with concerned eyes before focusing on Bobby. "Hey, Bobby." He greeted drawing out his words. His old guard swallowed hard, with widened eyes. "Neal." He said. Neal gave him a look before looking around the room. "...I didn't do anything..." He said slowly. "We know." Bobby said. Neal gave another look around the room before he noticed the tv was on behind him. He looked closely at the paused tape, until he recognized what it was from. His eyes immediately turned back to Bobby. The guard noticed the flash of anger in them. "_What_ did you do?" He asked, quietly. The anger melted into hurt when Bobby couldn't answer right away. Those torn eyes looked over at Peter, completely terrified. He looked like a scared child, tearing Peter's heart down with him. Neal looked back at Bobby. "Y-you...told them." It was meant as a statement, not a question. The guard regretfully nodded after a moment.

Neal let out a scared, shaky breath, feeling his stomach turn as fear ripped at his chest and tears pushed into his eyes. He did his best to hold them back. They _knew_. The team knew. _Peter. Knew._ He felt like he was going to be sick, this wasn't supposed to happen. No. They weren't supposed to find out. _Ever_. No one was. _Especially Peter_.

Neal looked back at Bobby, completely hurt. "Neal." Bobby stepped towards him, causing the con to immediately step back, shaking his head. "Don't." Peter couldn't take the con's voice, the amount of guilt, shame, pain, everything in it just continued to rip him up. The con moved to exit the room, he could not be around them right now. "Wait." Bobby took another step forward before Neal turned towards him. "I _trusted_ you, Bobby. You promised...I...I..." Neal looked like he was about to cry, quickly exiting the room before hand. The security guard let out a defeated sigh, watching through the glass as Neal ran down the stairs and out of sight.

"What does he mean, 'you promised'?" Diana asked after a moment. Bobby looked at her, realizing he might as well let the rest of it out now. "He...he made me promise not to tell anyone. Not to really do anything. When I told him I couldn't ignore it he made me promise not to say a word. He was...he was just so scared. I finally convinced him to let me atleast switch his cellblock if I didn't say anything. He begged me not to tell you." Bobby looked at Peter. The Agent made eye contact after he caught that last word. "Me?" He clarified. Bobby nodded. "He wanted to make sure that out of everyone _you_ wouldn't find out..." Bobby said. Peter shook his head. "We need to find him." He said. "...Who? Sam? ...Or Neal?" Jones asked slowly. Peter looked at him. "Neal first."

Peter Burke swore right then and there, if he ever got his hands on Samuele Russo, without anyone else around, well, there'd not be much of a point of sending him back to prison dead.

* * *

><p>Well, there it is. Chapter five :P Hope you enjoyed it. I wrote it around one a.m. last night and I was going to put it up after school, but like I said I had made last minute plans and I just got home...at eleven at night. So! Anyways! Review please(: And for those of you, who seem to be worried about my grades, don't worry! I know how to pass and write in class at the same time. (: I write mostly in Photography when I'm done taking pictures for assignments. That class, and my TAG Internship class since I haven't been placed yet. So, don't worry! (: Love, you. Goodnight!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Hey, here's Chapter Six. (: Enjoy! Please, review.

* * *

><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Six.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> Got nothin'  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

Neal had made it out of the building, slowing to a walk once out in the street. He glanced in both directions, deciding to head west towards the park instead of going back to June's. He needed a walk, alone, he needed time to clear his head.

After a couple of minutes, his phone rang and he cautiously took it out of his pocket - making sure to check the id first this time - it was Peter. He considered answering for a moment before slipping the phone back into his pocket and ignoring the call. He managed to get to the park without fainting, his cellphone still buzzing annoyingly in his pocket. It was still Peter. Neal couldn't answer it. He didn't know what would happen if he did. Going back wasn't going to happen, yet. He leaned back against the bench, his thoughts completely taking him over.

They knew.

_All of them._

Bobby _told_ them.

_Peter knew_.

Neal tried his hardest to make sure no one found out.

The more he thought about it, the more he slipped farther into his memories as he stared blankly at the fountain infront of him.

-x-

_Neal was walking towards the rec room, stopping short when he saw a familiar face before him. His cellmate stepped closer, smiling at him. Terror built inside the con's chest. He knew there weren't any guards on this floor yet, shifts were just starting to change. "Sam, please don-" He started but was cut off by being thrown against the wall. A groan of pain escaped from him as his back hit hard against the concrete. Within seconds the other mans body was pressed against Neal with a pair of rough, chapped lips against the con's. Neal struggled beneath his attacker, wanting and trying to break free. He knew how useless it was. He fought anyways, in a pointless attempt to get away. He knew he couldn't, this was a routine - the same thing every time. He knew what the man wanted and that he was going to do it no matter how hard Neal fought or how much he asked. It wasn't going to end until he had his way._

_Neal desperately tried to escape the death grip that had formed around him. But there was no use, he knew what was going to happen. The closet door next to them was opened, Neal being pushed roughly inside, with much protest from Neal as he kicked and struggled in Sam's arms._

_Russo threw Neal onto the floor, hard. The con tried to scram away, wanting to escape the horror he knew was coming but, strong fingers wrapped around his ankles and pulled him back down. Neal felt Russo begin to crawl ontop of him, putting his nightmare into play._

_His white shirt was ripped off his body, then the bottom half of his jumpsuit. His and Russo's clothes fell into a mixed puddle on the floor as they were thrown across the small closet space after being torn away from him._

_It wasn't long until rough, sand paper-like hands traveled around Neal's restricted, now bare body. No matter how hard he tried not to, each time Sam slammed himself into him with more force than Neal could bare, he screamed. With each scream and cry out came the punishment of a punch or hit to somewhere on the fragile body. Sam's hand came up and covered Neal's mouth, shutting him up quickly._

_For what seemed like a lifetime, Neal bit back tears while being violated. If the tears escaped from his eyes, the beating would become worse. He could already feel bruises forming on the skin over his muscles. Everything was hurting._

_Once Russo was finished with him he pulled away from Neal and pulled his clothes back on. "You know. I don't get you." Sam said to the weak man laying on the floor. Neal didn't respond, only looked away as he felt sick. "You fight and you fight." Charlie started, strolling back over to the almost lifeless body that laid out before him._

_Which is exactly how Neal Caffery felt at the moment, Lifeless._

_Sam leaned over Neal once again, whispering menacingly to him. "Yet, you know you will never win. You can be the smartest con on the block, but you're weak Nealie. You're weak. You are just so defenseless and easy get. I don't know why you even try to fight. You are a damaged, broken, little mess in prison. Look at yourself. You. Are. Nothing." Sam's voice was cold and dark. His eyes matched that. They were eyes that haunted Neal's mind._

_The tone was meant to hurt Neal as well as the words, and to as much as Neal didn't want to admit it, they did. They did hurt him. They tore away and broke him down everytime they were spoken._

_Russo picked up Neal's clothes and ordered him to get dressed. When Neal didn't move quick enough because of the pain Sam shook his head. "You can't even dress yourself." He spat, quickly pulling Neal's clothes on half-heartedly._

_Russo laughed darkly at the sight of watching his toy shudder again as he touched his cheek. "Ill see you tonight." He said with another laugh. Neal shook once more as Sam's hand touched his chest and then left laughing and satisfied with himself that he left the broken boy behind._

_Neal couldn't take it, he sat up slowly so he didn't irritate any injuries and he pushed himself against the wall. He pulled his knees to his chest and held them tightly. Sam's voice was left floating around his mind, his words burning into his skin. The man's laughed was still in the room and it pushed more fear into Neal. Emotionless eyes were pictures in his head, menacing, dark, cold. Tears stung his own eyes, the need to be sick falling into his stomach. A tear fell down his cheek, breaking him apart._

_The door quickly swung open, startling Neal as he flinched against the wall thinking Sam was back. Once he looked up, he noticed the guard standing above him. "Neal!" Bobby exclaimed, diving towards him._

_The con pushed away, unable to take being touched. Bobby quickly ran back out of the room, calling out for someone before returning to the closet. The security guard kneeled infront of Neal. "What happened?"_

_The look he got back, the hurt and fear mixed tears in the con's eyes and his lips parted slightly, told Bobby everything. Neal's breathing caught up with him, shaking his chest. He swallowed hard, licking his lips. "Bo-Bobby." His voice was rasp. "You...please, don't-" Neal couldn't speak. "What Neal?" He asked. Neal's body shook. "You-you can't say an-ything." He said, meeting Bobby's eyes once more. "Neal-" Bobby started. "You can't!" Neal said, looking more scared than before. Bobby quickly stood, gently pulling the con to his feet and walking him out. Neal glanced around the empty hall, staying close to Bobby. Another guard approached them with a questioning look. The other guard noticed the redness of new bruising around Neal's face and Bobby held out his hand, motioning he had it under control._

_Bobby ushered Neal into one of the security offices, sitting him down and pulling out a first aid kit from under the desk filled with monitors._

-x-

Neal gasped when a tap on his shoulder caused him to jump almost ten feet. Mozzie stared down at him with a blank expression. "Moz." He said, sighing. "You just jumped." He asked. Neal looked up at him. "You never jump."

Neal rubbed his hands together, falling back into reality. Mozzie sat next to him, still watching him intently. "What's going on?" He asked. Neal looked over at him after a moment. "He called." Unable to say his name, Neal looked away. "What did he say?" Mozzie asked. Neal stared down at the pavement beneath his shoes.

"He going to find me. He said we'd 'be together again soon'." Neal stated with a blank expression. Mozzie waited for the rest of the explanation. "I went back to the office. To tell Peter..."

"What did Peter do?" Mozzie asked.

Neal rubbed his hands together again. "I didn't get the chance to tell him..." Neal spoke quietly. "Did he sent you out again?" Mozzie asked. Neal shook his head, hair falling over his eyes.

"They know. Bobby...he...told them...I...I ran out."

"They know what Neal?" Mozzie asked, leaning closer to his friend.

Neal looked up, blue eyes still trapped in the emotions of his memories. Mozzie could tell, didn't want to believe it, but he knew that it was something beyond his suspicions. Mozzie stayed silent for a moment before he quickly stood up, looking down at his friend. They weren't going to have this conversation out here. Not only did Mozzie fear for Neal's safety of just sitting in the wide open park with this psycho on the loose, he also wanted Neal to be able to breakdown if he had to. "Come on. Let's get home. I hear June sent new wine today." He gave Neal a smile and the conman actually-sort of smiled back, thankful of the way Mozzie wasn't going to force the subject.

-x-

Peter had given up on calling. Neal was not going to answer him, that was made obvious the last thirty some odd calls ago. Jones came in to his office, after checking Neal's anklet - for safety purposes, informing him that Neal was at the park and was just now leaving and heading back to June's. Peter nodded, thanking him before putting on his jacket and heading in the same direction.

-x-

Mozzie and Neal walked into Neal's loft, Mozzie allowing his friend to change before they walked outside and sat at the small table.

"Neal, talk to me." Mozzie said after ten minutes of silence. Neal looked up. "He hurt me, Moz..." Neal spoke quietly.

"It...it started in our cell. I don't know how it started...but, it did. He...climbed into my bunk...the first month I was there..." Neal let the information linger, knowing Mozzie would put the pieces together without him having to say anything. Moz just gave him a soft expression, letting him know that he could be comfortable. Neal took a breath before speaking again.

"It...it was almost every night..." Neal's gaze dropped, guilt falling into his voice. Mozzie caught it quickly. "It's okay, Neal." He whispered. Neal met his eyes once more. "What if he finds me, Moz?" He asked, blue eyes filled with terror.

"We won't let that happen."

Neal dropped his gaze again, playing with his fingers under the table.

They stayed silent for a long time before Neal shifted, running a hand through his hair. "Would you mind if I took a shower, Moz?" He asked. Mozzie shook his head. "Go ahead. We can finish later." Neal nodded, standing up and walking back inside. He stopped when he reached the doors, turning around and looking at his friend. "Thanks, Moz." Mozzie gave him a smile and Neal headed back inside to shower.

Mozzie left the veranda after a few while, heading into the kitchen to get wine. A knock on the door had Mozzie put the bottle down and freeze. He looked at the door Neal had disappeared behind minutes before, leading towards the closet and bathroom, before looking back at the door.

"Neal." Peter's voice came through the door and both Mozzie visibly relaxed. Mozzie opened the door and Peter looked at him. "Where is he?" Peter asked. Mozzie stared at the Agent. "You have a lot of never showing up here, Suit." Mozzie kept his voice low and earned a look from the other man. "Just tell me where he is." Peter demanded. Mozzie crossed his arms over his chest. "Showering." He said. Peter sighed, relaxed that Neal was atleast here, he stepped inside and Mozzie shut the door.

"Is he okay?" Peter asked. "I don't know if _okay _is the word you'd want to use." Mozzie said. Peter looked down. "Whatever line you crossed, Suit, I can tell you that you shouldn't have." Mozzie said. Peter gave him a look.

"You hurt him, Peter."

Peter faltered, that was probably one of the worst things he could've heard at the moment, that and Mozzie had used his first name. He knew this was worse than he thought. "I needed to know." Peter knew it wasn't an excuse, but just a statement.

"Yeah, I know you did." Mozzie sighed, silence filling the room before he looked up at the Agent. "Sam called him." Mozzie admitted, knowing that piece of information was important. Peter's face turned angry. "He did?" Peter asked, mad he wasn't told.

"Why do you think Neal showed up to talk to you in the first place?"

Peter's expression fell back as he stared at Mozzie. "He went to tell you. He called and after they hung up Neal went straight to you."

The Agent immediately looked down, hating that he hadn't even thought why Neal had showed up at the office in the first place.

"Sam told him he was going to get him. Neal got scared and came to you, to only find out you used the only person who he trusted with that information, against him." Mozzie was upset, mad with the Suit - something Peter hadn't seen first hand. Peter met his gaze, the scowl on the shorter man's face actually beginning to guilt him.

The door that lead into the back area of the lost opened. Neal emerged in comfortable clothes, running a towel over his hair. When he removed the towel, wet hair falling naturally, he noticed Peter. Mozzie was still by the door and Neal could tell they had been having a conversation - probably about him.

"What are you doing here?" Neal asked, looking at Mozzie, who nodded to let him know everything was okay, then back at Peter.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay." The Agent said. "Well, I'm fine, as you can see." Annoyance laced into his voice.

Peter glanced between both con's a few times, easily sensing he wasn't welcome right now. He looked back at Neal. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced Bobby to tell us. He didn't want to. I never intended for this to happen, Neal." He apologized. Neal swallowed.

"I believe you." He said after a moment. Peter visibly relaxed, Mozzie left his stance by the door to take his glass of wine and pour Neal one. "Can we please talk about this?" The Agent asked. He waited as Mozzie and Neal exchanged looks, Mozzie's saying not to, Neal's saying they had to. Neal looked back at Peter and nodded.

"Okay." He said, taking a seat at the table.

Peter sat at the head of the table, beer in hand and Mozzie across from Neal, both with wine.

Things would be okay, maybe not yet, but they would be.

* * *

><p>There it is(: Chapter Six! I hope you enjoyed it. It's close to two a.m. so, Goodnight! Review please! Love you(:<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Hey Guys. This is extremely late. Forgive me! This whole Hurricane Irene thing has been problematic. I hope everyone else out there who got caught around it is okay too! Enjoy! Review Please!

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Seven  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own them...I barely own the soda can I have right now.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

They had switched their sitting arrangement from Neal's place to the FBI conference room. Peter knew they had to have this discussion on FBI grounds so they could really use it against Sam, plus he needed Diana and Jones to hear it from Neal and he felt as though not having Neal explain it twice was a much better idea. The Agent had waited in the car while Neal tried to convince Mozzie into coming with them. Neal all but begged on his knees, explaining that he needed Mozzie to be there, for comfort his own sense of safety and security reasons. Mozzie told him that he would, he really didn't want to, but he would for Neal's sake. After twenty minutes, both conmen strolled out of the home and they headed back to the office.

It was getting dark out now. They'd been sitting here for hours. Neal had explained the phone call, what Sam had told him, and the security tape. Diana and Jones were at the other end of the table, writing things down. When Peter had asked about the first time it had happened, Neal visibly tensed. Peter noticed the smoke of memories clouding into the blue of his eyes and the Agent regretted asking the question. Neal fell back into a flashback, explaining what had happened as it played out in his mind.

-x-

_Lights had just gone out for the night, final lockdowns. Neal was laying in the top bunk, the hard mattress under him becoming all too familiar. After things had quieted down around the floor, Neal felt and heard movement on the bed beneath him. Sam was now standing next to their bunks._

_"Evening Nealie." His voice was dangerously low, to not wake anyone else on the floor. Neal cringed at the nickname. "What Sam?" He asked. The smile he got said too much, he shouldn't have said anything._

_"Let's play a game." Sam's voice was teasing. He slowly climbed up onto the top bunk. Neal pushed himself into the solid concrete wall of their cell, his back against the hard surface. Sam just got closer. "A game?" Neal swallowed, dreading it. "Yes. It's a fun game." Sam commented, moving closer on the small amount of bed and getting into Neal's personal space. Sam pushed against the younger man. Neal pushed at him to get off but the other man was stronger, bigger than him._

_Sam gave him a smile - it was evil. Completely, 100 percent evil, no more than that. The devil doesn't even smile like _that_._

_Neal made movement to get away, but he was stuck between the wall and his demon-like roommate. "Sam-don't-" Hands were against him, one quickly under his nightshirt and the other holding him down. The hand against his chest made it's way down beneath his waistline. "Sam! You can't-please!" Neal begged. Sam laughed darkly against his cheek. "Fight me Nealie, come on. It'll be much more fun." Neal froze, hating himself for getting scared. Sam knew he was terrified and they both knew it could be used against him. Neal wanted it to stop but couldn't say anything, do anything, now or things would be worse. He had learned that while being in prison in general. He bit hard into his bottom lip, shutting his eyes and trying to imagine something else but it wasn't working. "Sam!" He pleaded but it just gave Sam more motive to continue._

_Before he knew it, something worse was happening. A hand was over his mouth, not allowing him to scream out. He could barely breathe. His body fell into a wisp of pain, everything hurt._

_Neal didn't want to think about it. He _really_ didn't want to. He let his mind wander, imagining being out of here. He pictured his life if he hadn't been put in prison. If he hadn't gotten caught. He wouldn't be _here_. He wouldn't be living with _Sam_. He wouldn't be laying in _this_ bed. _This_ wouldn't be happening. No matter what Neal tried to think about, _this_, always came crawling back to scar his mind._

_Neal twisted and turned as he tried to get out from under Russo but nothing was going to help. "Sam-please. _Stop._" His quiet pleas were ignored. He was on the verge of tears, swallowing hard and trying not to choke on tears. "Don't cry." Sam warned, hands bruising Neal's hips. The smaller man let out a whimper and Sam's lips covered his to keep him quiet. He fiercely kissed Neal, tasting like contraband cigarettes. Neal almost gagged on the taste as Sam's tongue slipped down his throat. Neal turned his head to end the bruising kiss but his chin was just pulled back and those same chapped lips were against his. _

_After almost forever, Sam had finished. He climbed away from Neal and off his bed before getting dressed himself._

_Russo picked up Neal's clothes and placed them near his feet, laughing quietly at the conman. "See you tomorrow." He said with another one of _those_ smiles. Neal couldn't find his breathe while Sam climbed into his own bed laughing and satisfied with himself that he left the broken boy up top._

_Neal laid on the top bunk, knowing that sleeping was not an option now. It would never be again._

-x-

Peter leaned closer, stopping Neal from replaying it any more than he needed to. He placed a gentle hand on Neal's shoulder and felt the small jerk reaction Neal's body gave off. "It's okay, Neal." He whispered. The conman nodded, relaxing against the table. He looked up, Jones had an expression on his face that Neal couldn't quite read. Some shock, some apologetic, sad, a little angry. He glanced at Diana, who looked about the same but with the glint of tears in her eyes. Neal immediately looked down, he didn't want to make anyone cry.

He couldn't look at Peter though, not without breaking down and - totally not - crying himself. "Neal...why...hell, why didn't you tell me?" Peter finally asked. The question had been nagging him for a while. Why hadn't Neal wanted him to know? Why was it such a secret - from him? Peter knew everything about him regardless, just from trying to find him. They didn't have that many completely unknown secrets between them anymore. So, why would Neal keep something like_ this_ away from him - away from someone who could help him?

Neal didn't respond, just stared through the glass and to the floor of the conference room. "Neal? Why didn't you ever tell me?" The Agent asked again, leaning a bit closer. Neal shook his head. "How was I supposed to Peter...?" He asked quietly, looking over at him. "It didn't matter how. You should've told me. I could've helped you, Neal." Peter's voice sounded sad and Neal's stomach began to hurt with guilt. "I _couldn't_ Peter. What...what if you didn't believe me...? What...if...you thought I was just...making it up…" Neal's voice turned to a whisper, his eyes casted downwards. "Neal, I would have believed you. You...you didn't deserve this..." Neal scoffed, folding his arms protectively around his abdomen. Peter frowned. "You should've told me." He said again. "I couldn't!" Neal looked at him. "You should have! You know I wouldn't have let this continue. I would've helped!" Peter said. "I just couldn't Peter...things would've gotten worse if I had..." Neal shook his head, looking away from the Agent. "Neal, if you told me..I...I would've helped. I would've gotten you out of there." Peter said slowly.

"You're the one who put me there!"

Neal's hands were immediately over his mouth, wishing he could take that back. Peter gasped, completely taken back and staring at his CI. Jones and Diana's eyes went wide, the sentence even took Mozzie by surprise. Shock came over Neal once his brain registered extent of the words he had just let slip, his expression dropping. He couldn't breathe right again. He shouldn't have said anything. He should definitely not have said _that_. God, he screwed this up. Peter watched as Neal visibly tensed, getting overwhelmed by his own outburst. Peter realized Neal hadn't expected to say that either. The con took a shaky breath, standing up. "I'm _so_ sorry." He quickly said, looking down at Peter. Neal shook his head, tears shinning in his eyes. Peter opened his mouth to speak but Neal left the room abruptly, for the second time. "Neal!" Peter stood to go after him but by the time he got to the stairs Neal was already out of the building.

-x-

Neal took off, running out of the building after that. Once a few blocks away, he slowed his pace and slipped his hands into his pockets. He shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have told them anything. How stupid could he be? What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn't have gone back to the office. He should not have said a word. Sam was going to know he talked. Sam was going to know that he finally told. Sam was going to kill him.

Neal aimlessly walked down the sidewalk, his words to Peter echoing in his mind. When he finally looked up for the first time he realized he was back in the park. The route was memorized and his feet must've been on autopilot - which he was thankful for. He glanced up at the stars as he walked down one of the pathways. He always liked the park at night. Not many people were still walking around and it was one of the few places you could still see the stars clearly in the city. He had missed those while in prison.

His thoughts disappeared and he froze when he heard footsteps behind him. As slowly as possible he turned his head in time to see a young couple, arm-in-arm, turning the corner into another path way. He watched until they disappeared behind more trees, quietly laughing and whispering with eachother. Neal took a breath, he was being paranoid. He was letting himself get scared. But, that's when he picked up on every sound. Every leaf that skipped across the concrete in the wind, every flutter of wings as birds flew above him, _everything_ sounded a hundred times louder. Neal had made it a few more feet before hearing footsteps that weren't his own again. He forced himself to relax and just ignore them before he heard them get closer. He turned around quickly and tried to see through the darkness. No one was behind him. He was just being paranoid still. That's all it was.

He turned back around and jumped back in fear immediately.

"Aw, Nealie, don't be scared."

-x-

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><p>There's Chapter Seven. I hope you enjoyed it. I love you guys!(: Review please! It's a bit after eleven thirty...so...Nighty Night(:<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Hey Guys, I'm putting this one up sooner because I posted the last chapter late. So, you guys deserve this one quicker.(: Enjoy! Review please? I love those - not gonna lie. Happy Labor Day Weekend by the way!

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Eight.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own them (sad face).  
><strong>Summary :: <strong>Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

"Nealie. Come on, come with me. Everything will be alright." Sam held out his hand. Neal just stared at him. Sam offered a smile, one that could be passed off as 'nice' maybe even _comforting_, but Neal knew better than to believe that.

"Neal." Sam's voice became demanding after a few moments of silence and Neal not moving. Neal swallowed, scared. "S-Sam...this...it's a bad idea..." He looked up, his eyes pleading and showing he didn't want to go. "Don't worry Nealie," Sam stepped closer, "I'll take good care of you. You have nothing to be worried about." Sam's voice was smooth, soft. One hand slowly came up, Neal flinched in the process, before Sam's hand ran through his hair and pushed it from his eyes. "Sam, I don't want this." He whispered. Sam gave him a smile, another one of those eerily comforting ones. "You will. You're safe with me Nealie." Neal swallowed hard again, his hand being taken from his side and next thing he knew he was walking and being lead to Sam's - probably stolen - car.

Sam opened the door and Neal just stared down at the passengers seat inside. "Please, Sam." He begged one last time. Sam rested a hand against his lower back, sending a chill up his spine. "Get in Neal. Everything will be alright." He was whispering. Neal knew something was wrong, more wrong than normal, Sam wasn't threatening him. He wasn't angry. Neal looked at his face. He seemed calm, just patiently waiting for Neal to step inside the car. Neal didn't get it. Sam wasn't hitting him. He wasn't painfully forcing him to go along. He wasn't throwing him inside the car or insulting him. He was caressing Neal as if he...as if he _cared_. He was being _gentle_. _That_ wasn't normal. "Just get in, Neal." He said softly. Neal glanced back inside the car and felt a light push on his lower back where Sam's hand was. "Go on." He encouraged. Neal complied, slowly climbing into the car, in fear of angering Sam. Sam waited til Neal was fully situated inside before shutting the door and climbing into the driver's side.

Neal was tense in his seat, staring at the floorboards of the car and trying to keep his body from shaking. His hands were on his knees, fingers clenching and unclenching around his kneecaps. The nervous feeling was still in his chest. Sam was being too..._nice_. Neal was too terrified to ask why, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer even if he could.

Sam reached behind them, rummaging into the backseat of the car before sitting back down straight and a flash of silver shined, from the street lights, in the corner of Neal's eye. He flinched back instinctively, staring at the other man in fear.

It was a pair of scissors. Neal froze as Sam reached over, going for Neal's ankle, and cutting the tracking device off.

"There we go." Sam smiled, tossing both the scissors and anklet out the window and into the grass. "All better."

He placed his hand on the steering wheel, started the car and Neal wrapped his arms tightly, protectively, around his abdomen again - something he seemed to be doing alot of lately.

-x-

Jones had immediately opened his laptop, waiting anxiously for it to load to bring up Neal's anklet records.

"He's in the park." Jones informed. "We need to go get him." Peter said. Mozzie sighed from beside him. "He won't come easily. You know that." Mozzie offered. "I don't care! I'm not going to have him out there alone right now!" Peter countered, close to raising his voice at Mozzie.

"Someone else try calling him. Mozzie, maybe he will answer to you." Peter said. Mozzie shook his head. "He won't. He won't talk to anyone right now. He scared, his mind his probably running as fast as his feet." Mozzie said.

The Agent was frustrated - it was easily noticeable to everyone in the room.

"Boss. We have a problem." Jones said from across the room, eyes intent on the computer screen and worry in his voice.

"What?" Peter snapped, giving him an apologetic look afterwards. Jones let it slide, looking up and meeting his boss's eyes.

"Neal just went off line."

Peter's face dropped, tightness in his jaw falling as his lips parted. No. No. No_._ They could not loose track of him._ No. _Not now.

-x-

They'd been driving for a little while. Sam seemed to relax, Neal couldn't.

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe he was high. Maybe he took something. Maybe he had gotten into one too many prison fights and a few blows messed with his head too much. Maybe he was more mentally unstable than Neal could remember, or want to remember.

This wasn't Sam.

This wasn't the Sam he remembered. This wasn't his old cellmate.

Things were off about him.

He sounded the same, looked about the same, but his behavior was different. It was a complete opposite since the last time Neal saw him.

Sam Russo was _not_ gentle. Sam Russo was _not_ non-violent. He forced people. He forced the things he wanted. He hurt people, usually with his fists. He was hot headed and had a short temper. He became violent over small things. He was a Prisoner. He was a Fighter. It's what he was - and _this_ wasn't him.

Neal risked a glance over to his former cellmate. Sam was focused on the road infront of them.

"Sam. What are you doing?" Neal was quiet, twisting his fingers together in his lap. "Hm?" Sam asked, glancing at him before going back to look at the road. "Why are you doing this?" Neal asked. Sam slowed to a stop at a red light before looking at Neal. "Doing what?" He asked. "_This_. Why did you come back? Why did you come after me? Why are you acting different?" Neal asked anxiously. Sam gave him a confused look. "Neal, I told you already. I want you." Sam whispered and Neal felt his stomach begin to hurt again. Neal shook his head. "Sam..." Neal breathed. "Just relax Neal." Sam reached over, taking Neal's hand again and the con shuddered. Sam squeezed his hand tight for a moment before driving again.

-x-

"Neal wouldn't cut his own anklet." Mozzie said quickly. Peter looked over at him. They stared at eachother, a silent conversation going on between them that Diana and Jones knew not to disturb with their own questions.

Peter's hands reached his hips. '_You're absolutely sure?_'

Mozzie rolled his eyes. '_Of course I am. He's not that stupid._'

Peter stared at him, a challenging look across his features. '_What if he did so we couldn't find him?_'

Mozzie crossed his arms. '_He wouldn't. Really Suit? Really? We both know that he wouldn't. He would still allow you to know he is okay. Especially _now_. Including me._' Anger flared in Mozzie's eyes. '_It's Sam. It has to be._'

Peter's look faltered, hands falling from his hips as one hand slammed down on the glass table. '_Damn it._'

"You could've said that one aloud." Mozzie commented. Peter shot at him with a death glare. '_Do. Not. Start. With. Me._' Mozzie nodded, looking down and stopping himself from reading into the Agent's actions.

"How are we going to find him?" Diana asked. Peter sighed angrily, staring out the glass windows that lead into the rest of the office. "We have no idea where he could be going." She said. "_They._" Mozzie said, looking at her. The other Agent's gave him a questioning look. "It's Russo. Sam cut his anklet." Peter looked down, hands back on his hips and his anger rising again. "Great." Jones said sarcastically.

"Let's go." Peter turned around quickly slipped on his suit jacket. "Where?" Jones asked. "We're going to find him." Peter demanded. "Jones you scope out the park. Take uniforms with you. Diana get security tapes in from the park and the roads around it. I want to see if we have a shot on Neal. Mozzie-"

"I have my own places to look." Mozzie said. Peter nodded. "Let's move. Keep in contact." Peter looked at Mozzie. "If you find anything, find me."

Mozzie nodded. "Will do Suit."

-x-

Neal was getting tired. He'd been up most of the day and he hadn't been sleeping. He wanted so badly to close his eyes and let sleep overtake him but he didn't trust himself, or Sam, enough to let that happen. He stared down at their hands, which were still together, and Neal still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Sam's thumb brushed over his and it took Neal by surprise he didn't flinch at the movement.

"You're safe with me, Neal." Sam said, making a turn. Neal kept his eyes on their hands. "You've known that since day one."

Neal didn't want to admit it but, his words did actually made sense. The first few weeks in prison Neal had gotten beaten up a few times. Nothing he couldn't handle but he was in pain most of the time. Once or twice it was for making a smart remark to the wrong person at the wrong time, but mostly it was because he was the 'Pretty Boy' of the place and just about everyone wanted a go at him. Other inmates broke out into fights about him for a few moments before their anger would switch from eachother to Neal himself.

But, after Sam had started, the beatings stopped. Things seemed to run smoother around him. No one fought with him as much. No one tried to take a swing at him, pick a fight, or even make a pass - and anyone who did usually try ended up in the infirmary for a good few days, sometimes weeks without a good explanation. He wasn't getting pounced on anymore in the showers. He wasn't getting thrown down in the cafeteria. Sam seemed to had always been there. People were afraid of Sam, that was a given, but...Neal looked over at his ex-cellmate. He hadn't ever really thought about it til now.

Sam was protecting him.

-x-

It was dark, late, Peter had woken up half the force and the NYPD; telling them they were scouring the city. After having Jones catch them up they were spread out and Peter got a call from Diana, telling him to come back to the office immediately. He hung up, got Jones and the two of them headed back as quick as possible.

Diana turned the computer screen towards them once they stepped into the conference room, a security tape playing from across the street by the park.

Neal was standing there with a figure infront of him. The figure stepped closer and Peter immediately recognized Russo. They were talking. Sam brushed the hair from Neal's eyes, Peter noticed how the con flinched. His whole body screamed with fear. They exchanged a few more words before Sam reached down and tugged Neal's hand, both of them wandering out of camera shot.

"They camera is too far away for us to read lips and know what they were talking about." Diana said.

Peter ran a hand over his face, letting out a stressed breath.

Sam had Neal.

"Get uniforms on that street, in that direction. I wanna know which way they could've went. Every possible direction. I want security detail on every street." Peter ordered. Diana nodded and left the room to make the call. Jones patted his boss's shoulder in a comforting matter before following Diana out to get back in the field.

Peter sat at the table, replaying the video on the screen before him.

He watched closely, angry eyes intent on the screen; watching as Neal flinched back from Sam's hands, as Sam _touched_ him, as Sam _smiled_ at him. He could see Neal hesitate a bit before being dragged behind by hand.

_Sam had him._

That bastard had _his_ CI. Peter's thoughts scattered over themselves trying to think and _not_ think about what could be happening to Neal at the moment.

He kept thinking back to the other security tape, the one from the prison before Neal's words came into his mind.

'_You're the one who put me there!_'

Peter's mind completely shutdown and his body fell more into the chair. He hadn't even begun to think about that yet. Neal was right. Peter did put him there. He had locked him up with that monster. What about all those meetings Neal requested that he hadn't shown up to? Was Neal wanting to tell him about it then? Is that why Neal hadn't wanted him to know? Because he felt as through Peter hadn't cared enough to show up when he needed him most? How could Peter have been so _stupid_? He had never thought about what could've been going on behind those bars. He'd put Neal there because he deserved it for breaking the law.

But Neal didn't deserve _this. _

He shouldn't have left Neal like that. Completely abandoned in a prison cell with that..._thing. _He should've checked on him. He should've come seen him. He should've talked to him. He should've been there for him.

The Agent needed to find him. _Now._ He needed to let Neal know that he knew he was stupid, and a jerk. He needed to kill Sam. He needed to beg Neal to forgive him. He needed to apologize. He needed to tell him that he wasn't going anywhere and that he'd always be by his side. He needed him to not get hurt. He needed him to be okay. He needed him to be alive. He needed him to be safe. He needed him to be back and know that he was still here. He needed to let him know that he was never going to let this happen again.

Peter _needed_ to save Neal.

-x-

"Sleep, Nealie." Sam said, turning another corner. "Where are we going?" Neal asked, voice a little rasp, leaning into the passenger seat. "A safe place." Sam said. "Where?" Neal asked. "I told you, someplace safe. Now sleep." Neal didn't want to. He knew he shouldn't. He needed sleep though. He planned on just blinking, but his eyes slid closed longer than he thought they would.

The darkness around him made him more comfortable. He leaned farther into the seat, thankful that Sam had turned on the heating system as it blew warm air towards him. He could still feel Russo's hand in his. At first it had scared him, completely terrified him, but...he slowly became more relaxed with it.

Sam had hurt him - badly, there was no denying that - but...something in the back of Neal's mind kept letting him know that things could have been worse for him without it. It kept letting him know that it was..._okay_. Sam still scared him - that was another thing he couldn't deny - he was still scared of Sam's violent side, and he knew one still had to be there because one like his doesn't just vanish, but...there was something about Sam that Neal felt as though he could...somehow..._trust. _Which didn't exactly come around often for the con. He wasn't even sure it was _trust_ anyways. Sam still did all those things, still broke out of jail, still _hurt_ him, still could just be trying to catch Neal off guard and trick him but Neal felt as though he was..._safe. _For now, he was hoping, atleast.

Sleep pulled at Neal's body and Sam's hand became warmer in his - something Neal hadn't been expecting. "Good Night Neal." He heard the whisper from beside him before he finally let himself be pulled into his own mind.

Right now, Sam wasn't hurting him and he was_ finally_ sleeping. Right now, that's all Neal could've wanted.

-x-

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><p>There's Chapter Eight(: I made it a bit longer than the others since you guys deserved that too. Hope you enjoyed it! Review<em> please<em>, I really do live off those things. It's close to two a.m. so, Goodnight (morning) I'm off to bed.(: Hope everyone sleeps well. Love you. Sweet dreams.


	9. Chapter 9

This is terribly late, I sincerely apologize. At first I couldn't think of what to do and once I did I got very sick. Sorry :/ But, here is Chapter Nine! Please Review and Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Nine.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I still don't own them. But, currently plotting my ways to steal them(:  
><strong>Summary :: <strong>Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

**Important!Author's Note ::** Guys, please tell me if you want this to end up Slash (Peter/Neal - it will not be explicit.) or not. I can do either. I just want to know which the majority of you guys prefer. Leave your answers in the reviews, or message me. (And, _please_, don't start bashing on Slash. If it's not what you want, then just say that.)

It was still late, well early, three in the morning to be exact. Peter Burke was leaning against the car, Neal's anklet in his hand. They had bagged and tagged the pair of scissors they found with it on the grass. The Agent's eyes were trained on the tracking device. He should've been protecting Neal. It was his job, regardless of them knowing eachother or working together, he was an FBI Agent - it's his job to protect the people of this city. That comes with the territory, the title. Being Neal's supervisor, his friend, that just adds more to the protective side of Peter.

Five Hours.

Neal's been gone a full _five damn hours._

Diana walked up to him, leaning on the car beside her boss. "You know we'll find him." She commented, crossing her arms over her chest to keep warm from the New York City night air.

Peter turned the anklet over in his hand.

"I hope so..."

-x-

Neal woke up dazed. He looked around him in confusion. When had he gotten into bed? - wait. This was _not_ his bed.

The con sat up abruptly. Last night's - or was it still the same night? - events came rushing back into his mind. Ones he had been hoping were just his nightmares but quickly realized they were reality.

He was with Sam.

His eyes traveled around the surrounding bedroom, he hadn't seen it before. His clothes had been switched into pajamas - T-shirt and flannel pants - ones that weren't his. He wasn't in any pain though and Sam wasn't in the room.

So, then where was he?

The opening and closing of a door beyond the bedroom made Neal jump. He sat tense in the middle of the rather large bed. The bedroom door opened a few moments later and Sam appeared with a smile. "Ah, you're awake." He laid Neal's clothes on a chair in the corner of the room, they were folded and seemed to be freshly washed. Neal gave him a blank look. "What time is it?" He asked. "A little after three in the morning." Sam sat down on the corner of the bed and leaned towards Neal. The con instinctively pushed himself back against the headboard. Sam chuckled at the response.

"I hear your FBI buddy is out there looking for you." He commented. Neal slowly brought his knees to his chest. "Do you think he's going to find you?" Sam looked over at him. When Neal didn't answer Sam laughed again. He stood up, pushing himself off the bed. Neal watched closely, every movement Sam made, his eyes caught. "I guess that's a no. I'm going to shower." He turned around and looked at Neal. "Don't go anywhere." His voice held threat and Neal nodded. "And, don't worry Neal. No one will ever find you." Sam's voice sounded as though that sentence was completely normal. His eyes looked dark as he left the room and closed the door.

The sound of the lock sliding into place seemed to be the loudest thing Neal had ever heard.

Neal pulled his legs closer to his chest. Peter was going to find him. He had to...he always did.

-x-

After twenty minutes, the door opened again. Neal hadn't moved an inch - to terrified to even try and breathe too much - and Sam smiled at him. His hair was wet from the shower and the towel was folded over his shoulder. Neal held his legs closer, taking note that Sam only had boxers on. He pulled the towel from over his shoulder and it fell to the floor. "What's the matter Nealie?" He asked. The con's eyes slid closed, the nickname was back again.

Sam slowly walked up to the bed and climbed up. Neal looked up at him and saw the look in his eyes. "Sam-"

"Shut up."

Sam pulled at him, holding him down against the mattress. Neal pushed back but Sam quickly held his arms down above his head. "Please don't-" Neal got a harsh hit to the stomach, knocking the air away from him. "I said _shut up_." Sam's voice was harsher - Neal had known that violent side wasn't gone quite yet. Lips were against his neck and he felt like he was going to be sick again. He tried kicking, but Sam's weight was rested over his thighs. "Stop! Sam!" Neal shouted. Sam's hands dug into his hips, causing him to let out a yelp.

"Please." Neal begged.

Sam just pushed him harder into the mattress.

-x-

Four hours later and _none_ of this was going well. Neal could be anywhere by now. Peter had put out national alerts and BOLO's a few hours ago, hoping they went up before Sam had gotten them on a plane overseas or across state lines - if that's what he did.

The team was back at the office, going over every possibility and direction for the thousandth time. Peter sat silently as Jones and Diana worked at the other end of the table.

The only thing he could focus on was his thoughts of Neal.

"Boss." Diana called. He looked up at her, eyes unfocused. She nodded towards him and he took notice that his phone was ringing. He quickly fished it out of his pocket and hit the answer button. "Agent Peter Burke."

"Peter..."

The Agent quickly motioned his team over, signaling trace on the phone call.

"Neal. Where are you?" He asked frantically. Jones started typing faster to try and trace the line. Peter put it on speaker and laid the phone infront of him on the table.

"I'm...uhm...I'm not sure..." Neal sounded weak - wounded - to Peter's dismay.

"What's around you? Is there a window anywhere? Can you see anything?" Peter's heart was beating faster. "No...n-n-othing. You have to get here before he comes back..." Neal's voice was close to breaking.

"Do you know where he went?" Peter asked. "He s-said he needed to meet wi-th someone...I don't have a good feeling about it..." Neal said. "I don't either buddy, but it's okay. We're going to find you alright?" Peter looked at Jones. The other Agent shook his head. "A little longer." He mouthed. Peter nodded.

"Neal, I need you to talk to me, okay? Can you do that?" Peter asked. "Mhmm…" Neal sounded tired. "Do you remember how you got to where you are?" Peter asked. "In his car. I-I think he stole it. It was four door. Dark color. That's all I re-member...but...I...fell a-sleep on the way." Neal said. Peter nodded. "Okay. What about anything he said? What have you been doing this whole time?" Peter asked.

"I woke up a few hours ago, around three. I w-was in bed when I got up. I don't...remember being moved. He wasn't with me though. Then he came back." Neal said. "What happened after you woke up?" Peter asked. Neal was silent for a little while, longer than Peter wanted him to be. "Neal?" Peter asked, worried he'd hung up or the phone died. "I d-don't want to say it Peter..." Neal's voice was softer before. "Neal." It was silent a little while longer before the team heard Neal sniffle a bit.

"He...he hasn't st-stopped..." Neal was on the verge of tears, Peter could tell. "What's he been doing?" Peter didn't want to ask but he knew Neal had to tell him. "He...he keeps...God, Peter...he hurts. Re-really bad. I...I can sti-ill feel him on me..." Neal's voice cracked a bit and Peter's stomach dropped.

Sam had been hurting him, touching him, violating him.

Peter was going to kill him.

"This whole time?" The Agent asked, angry, lips forming a tight line. Neal didn't respond. "Neal?" Peter called. "Most of it...he slept an hour th-though..." Neal said. Peter let out a sharp breath. "I tried to stop him - I really did. But...he's so much stronger than me Peter..."

Diana's hand wiped at her eyes as she took a seat beside her boss. She didn't want to hear Neal like this. Jones eyes were intent on the computer screen, trying to find the con and ignoring his own glistening of tears.

"I ke-kept asking him to stop. But...but nothing worked...he wouldn't listen...it...he..wouldn't go away. He wouldn't stop..."

Peter's heart was breaking in pieces at the con's words. "Neal. I'm going to find you. Everything is going to be alright."

A sound on the other end of the line made Neal gasp. "Peter. Peter. He's back." He whispered, more scared than before. "Neal. You gotta stay with me. We're going to come find you okay?" Peter sat on the edge of his chair. "You have to hurry, Peter, please..." Neal whispered. "We will be there soon, okay?" Peter was staring down at the phone. "Peter, you have to save me..." Neal sounded terrified, Peter had no doubt that he wasn't. "I will Neal." Peter promised. Neal didn't respond but the call hadn't been disconnected yet. It sounded like the phone was placed on the floor. "Neal." Peter called out in a desperate attempt to get his attention.

"Nealie. I want you to meet a friend of mine." Peter immediately recognized Sam's voice.

"Hey there, Neal." Peter didn't know the second voice. There was a light laugh. "Now, Nealie, I want you to behave." Footsteps got closer. "Sam-" Neal started. "What's this phone doing out?" Sam shouted, the phone being picked up.

Peter's heart skipped.

"You-You left it here." Neal quickly said. There was a long silence before the sound of a slap. "We will talk about this later. Roy, he's all yours. I'll be back in an hour." Sam said, anger in his voice. "Be good for Roy, Nealie. He's paid good for you. You know the consequences if you don't."

"Wait!-"

The line went dead, cutting off Neal's words.

Peter immediately looked at his Agent. "_Tell me_ we got something." He pleaded. Jones typed quickly on his keyboard before his computer dinged and his eyes lit up. "Got it." He said. Peter glanced at the address and quickly ran out of the room, collecting more personnel and his team right behind him.

Neal's voice was in his head.

_Save me._

That's exactly what he was going to do.

-x-

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><p>There's Chapter Nine! Don't forget to leave your answers about the Slash or not in the reviews, or message me. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! I must be getting off to bed now. Goodnight! I love youuuuu. (:<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

This is so late. I'm really sorry. I missed a few days of school and I've just been trying to make all my work up. But, here is Chapter Ten. Please, please, review.

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><p><strong>Title :: <strong>Neal's Secret Chapter Ten.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own the show.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to figure out what it is.

Sam had crossed a line - well, a fell, okay..._alot_ actually - and Neal wasn't okay. He could deal with his ex-cellmate. He could drown those memories and prison nightmares into artwork, or even cases. He could distract himself from the terror playing inside his mind, sometimes manage to completely forget about it for a little while. He was able to function, he had gotten used to it - as bad as that sounded - he didn't let it take over his life once he was away from it.

He hated it. God, he _hated_ it. He hated Sam for doing it - for ruining him.

But, _this_ was worse.

Terrified blue eyes were locked on the figure advancing towards him. He felt hands pressing harder on his shoulders and, if he was being honest, he had no idea what happened.

_Something_ snapped.

It could've been the years of anger, or fear, or maybe the forces were just on his side at the moment. He pushed the second his hands were free and the source of his outburst was suddenly on the floor. Sam's friend was standing up, obviously pissed off. Neal only slightly regretted his defense as he felt the repercussions of a swift knuckle to his jaw. His shoulders were being pushed back down again, harder than before, and there was weight against his chest. Neal let out a yelp of pain when his hips were gripped tightly. The pain faded into numbness before he aimlessly threw out a hit. His hand connected with something, he wasn't quite sure, but it was hard. Roy grunted in disapproval and tried to regain control of the situation but Neal felt like he was on a roll.

He threw another punch, Roy hit back. He could feel bruising forming on his skin and the fear in Neal's blood bubbled itself into strength and anger. Neal managed to crawl away from him and got to the door. He pulled at the handle, harder when he realized it was locked, until he felt a pair of hands around his waist. Roy pulled him from his only escape path and Neal was thrown to the floor. There was pain in his side and Neal felt something in his throat. He turned to his side and shivered at the feeling up blood climbing up with throat as he coughed. Roy let up on his grip over the con only slightly.

There was commotion outside the door which caught both men's attention.

Was Sam already back?

"Neal!" The con immediately recognized the voice, shouting back. "Peter!"

-x-

Peter Burke was practically bouncing in his seat as Jones sped through the streets of New York City. They weren't that far away now and Peter's adrenaline rush was doubling. Jones glanced at his boss, his own blood pumping and pulled up to the coordinates off of the cellphone Neal had used. The car wasn't even fully stopped before Peter was out of his seat.

NYPD had lead them up the stairs, guns drawn, triggers ready.

Peter had come to the door, giving one look at his team before a uniform kicked in the door. They cleared the front room and the sound of coughing fell to Peter's ears. "Neal!" He called.

"Peter!"

Neal's response was strained but, Peter could tell which direction it came from. There was another door and Peter and Jones ran to it with Diana behind them. Peter turned the knob but it was key-locked. It took two slams from Peter's shoulder to get through and the door swung open. Jones dove forward, tackling the man over Neal onto the floor and began cuffing him. Peter fell towards Neal and pulled him upright. Neal grunted in pain and then hung on to the Agent. Peter looked down at him. He was half-dressed, bruising darkened around his torso and cheeks.

Roy was yelling as he was being pulled up and dragged out the door, mostly at Neal, but also the other uniforms in the room. Peter noticed, along with the other officers in the room that the man they pulled off of Neal wasn't the one they were looking for. "Neal-"

"I don't know. Roy. That's it. That's all I know." Peter nodded.

Neal finally looked up at Peter and was graced with a small smile, a true one - something he hasn't seen in a little while.

"Come on buddy, let's get outta here." He whispered. He pulled Neal up, with help from Diana, and Neal clutched to the Agent.

"I gotcha kid. You're safe."

-x-

Burke and his team were in the waiting room at the hospital. Neal had claimed he was fine, injuries weren't that bad, but paramedics disagreed due to his coughing up blood and told him he had to get checked out first. The con looked at Peter, eyes begging to go home but Peter wanted him checked out too and told him it would be done.

Now, he should've just taken the kid home, atleast there he could talk with him.

Diana had a hand on Jones' back, both of them staring into open space.

Another half hour and a doctor finally approached them. "Agent Burke." He called. He immediately stood, Jones and Diana up behind him.

"Morning, Agent." He greeted. Peter stared at him, pain in his chest. "How is he?"

"Mr. Caffery is badly hurt, but will be alright...in time." The doctor read over the clipboard in his hand again before looking at the team of agents infront of him. "He has a mild concussion, and major bruising over his torso which accumulated to the blood he coughed up. They will fade in time however..." His voice trailed off and he glanced back down at the clipboard.

"What?" Peter demanded.

"To your orders, we preformed to a rape kit."

Peter's heart dropped, he knew this had been coming, he just didn't want to hear it.

The doctor looked up and saw their faces, and the look on his meant the conversation did not need to be voiced. They knew what had happened and the information hit them. "I'm sorry." The doctor whispered, sincere. "C-Can..." Peter's voice left him. "Yes. You can see him." The doctor nodded, stepping to the side and allowing them to pass.

Diana's hand was on his shoulder. "We'll come back later. Sam is still-."

"I know." Peter cut her off, anger towards the bastard. He shuttered, Sam was still out there, they had back-up agents tracking him down while they were here but Neal was Peter's first priority right now and Diana and Jones just wanted to know he was okay before joining the man-hunt. Jones nodded and looked at his boss. Peter took a deep breath. "Keep me updated and I need to know every-"

"Just talk to him, Peter." Diana said calmly.

"Okay." They walked in separate directions.

-x-

Walking into Neal's room was like walking into a scary nightmare of Peter's. There was an IV in his arm, machines beeping, his cheeks were darkened, his eyes were closed and mind entranced within a sedative induced sleep and he just looked..._hurt_.

_Well, obviously._ Peter scolded himself.

He took a seat beside him friend, staring at him in a mix of emotions. His anger was still spinning and he promised himself that he would take down Sam, personally.

Peter looked at Neal and all those feelings faded, sadness sinking into his heart.

"God, Neal...I'm just...I'm so sorry..."

* * *

><p>There's Chapter Ten. I apologize for it being so late. But, there you go. They have Neal back atleast. It's late, so, Goodnight. Review Please!<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Hey, Guys(: Here's Chapter Eleven. Enjoy! Review, please, I love those things...

* * *

><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Eleven  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own the boys, just play.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to try harder to figure out what it is.

**Author's Note ::** By the way! I forgot to mention this - **This _won't_ be slash**, unless someone _really really_ wants an alternate ending or scene or whatever, be it Mozzie/Neal or Peter/Neal - message me.

A couple of hours later and Peter was tense in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside Neal's bed.

After news had run through the 'Underworld' of Roy's arrest and Neal's rescue, Sam had gone under the radar.

And now, those machines were taunting him. Each beep became more irritating, but then they would calm him. Those beeps meant that Neal was still alive, still here. That's what mattered.

The team was working double speed and Peter trusted that they would find Russo in time. Neal's well-being was his first priority at the moment. Almost compulsively, Peter was checking his cellphone, looking for updates - looking for the go ahead to take down Sam. He wanted to be here - well not _want_, because none of this should have happened, but, he wanted Neal to wake up to someone he knew.

Diana had sent him the information they had on who they had arrested when they found Neal. Roy Calinsenzzo - another name that would stick to Peter's memory. The suspect had a long record, close in comparison to Sam's. Roy had been in and out of several prisons, managing to stay under the radar from his parole officer for the last few months. A few years ago he was charged with assault of a police officer which landed him some time in a cell, but had gotten out early due to 'good behavior' - or - he was a fantastic, manipulating liar and got the courts to fall for his good-boy act and wriggled his way out of the system - Peter's thoughts were leaning towards the latter - something that wouldn't happen again, not under Peter's watch.

A mumble from the hospital bed beside him got the Agent to sit at the edge of his chair, leaning closer to his friend. Neal eyes were closed, tighter than before as if he had tried opening them and things were too bright in the room.

"Peter..." Neal's voice was rough, causing Peter to reach for the glass of water and stand bedside. "Hey buddy." Peter greeted with an attempted smile. He held the cup to Neal's lips and the con generously took a gulp. The empty plastic cup was tossed into the trash and Peter turned back to Neal. His hands were rubbing at his eyes, pushing himself up to sit straight. He let out a whimper, stopping his attempt and falling back into the mattress. Peter winced for him, knowing he was in pain.

"What..." Neal didn't know which question to ask first.

"I told you we'd get you."

Blue eyes finally looked up, dazed and unguarded, Peter noticed every confused emotion passing through the con's mind as they played out across those colors. "Neal-"

"I know, I know." Neal immediately cut him off. "Sam-" Peter tried again. "Is still out there." Neal finished for him and the Agent's heart faltered. Neal noticed the apologetic look crossing his friend's face and he felt guilty, then scared, then guilty again, then scared again. The con looked away, sitting up slightly and repressing the protests of his muscles.

"We'll get him." It was a threat, and a promise, and Peter couldn't quite tell if he was promising that to himself, or Neal.

"Can I go home?" Neal asked after a few silent moments. "I'll check with-"

"No, Peter, please. I just want to go home." Neal's voice was pleading and Peter nodded.

"Okay, okay. We'll go home."

-x-

After signing Neal out AMA - only a _small_ argument with the doctor and getting a prescription for pain - and helping the kid back into the house, Peter watched as an immensely worried June ran up to greet him. She explained she got on the first plane back from her trip last night, the second she caught wind of what was going on. Neal gave her a lopsided smile, thanking her and looking more exhausted than before. She hurried into the kitchen, calling that she would be up with snacks in a few moments.

Neal made it up two stairs before pain had set in and Peter came up beside him and slowly guided him up the rest. Neal sighed, eyes closed, content to be back in his own home as Peter shut the door of the loft.

The con fell to the couch, silencing the noise of protest that almost fell from his lips. Peter sat near him, reading the surprised looks of pain with ease and handing him the small pain tablet and a cup of water.

"Thanks for bringing me home." Neal said. Peter gave him a soft smile, a welcome. June came knocking at the door, a small plate of simple foods in her hand as she walked in. She set the plate on the table infront of them before looking at Neal. "I'll be right downstairs." She said. They nodded. "Thank you." Neal said and Peter gave her a smile.

Neither were very hungry and that smile faded after a few moments after June left and the Agent looked at the floor, thinking, before meeting eyes with Neal once again. His lips parted, words on his lips but an inability to speak.

"Questions." Neal commented, reading Peter's mind and looking down at his hands with nervousness. "Yeah." Peter sighed, he was good at questioning, his record proved that, and knew the things he had to ask and talk about during this situation - if this was a different case with a different..._victim_, under different circumstances.

"Tell me what you can." Peter said, leaning against the cushions and keeping his eyes locked on the man infront of him.

Neal's eyes stayed down, unable to look at Peter, with shame written all over him. Peter waited silently.

"He found me in the park. I don't know how. He...he just showed up. But..." Neal's gaze shifted to closer to his feet, not wanting to share the thoughts he had in that car ride with Peter. "I fell asleep in the car. When I woke up I was in bed, and he came in and..." Neal's voice trailed off, eyebrows furrowing.

"How long?" Peter asked with understanding, not wanting to, but having to.

"A long time..." Neal wiped at the corner of his eye quickly, dark hair falling over his face. "God, Peter I was...terrified..."

Peter hurt. His heart, his chest, everything, as he watched Neal do his best not to cry.

"And Roy...?"

Neal's body twitched slightly again. "I don't have a clue..." Neal admitted. "He had uhm..." He swallowed. "Paid...Sam. Atleast, that's what I heard..." His voice got softer, shame rising back up again.

Peter stared at him blankly, slightly shocked. Neal didn't even want to look at him, knowing the list of expressions he'd see - guilt, pity, sorrow - things he didn't want to see.

The Agent quickly changed his looks, resting a hand on Neal's shoulder. "What happened?"

After a shaky breath and a hand through his hair, "He climbed ontop of me. I pushed at him. I...I was scared..." Peter could tell everything was replaying in his head when he fell silent, squeezing his shoulder to get him to relax. "I didn't...I didn't know what to do. So...I..hit him. A few times." Neal's hands rubbed at eachother. Peter gave a faint smile. "You did a number on him, kid."

"I...I can still feel his hands. Both of theirs...they're just..."

It was silent for a little while. He tried to hide a sob as the first tear fell but Peter caught it.

The hand on his shoulder turned into a hug. At first the con was tense, body reacting to touch, but after the hand on his back was moving in circles he fell against the source of comfort.

"It's okay." Peter reassured, waiting the the tears to stop before letting Neal go and looking at him. His eyes were pinkish, cheeks puffy, but he wiped at his face. "Thanks." He mumbled. Peter squeezed his shoulder again.

They both jumped when the door to Neal's loft swung open, someone running in. They both turned to see Mozzie, who froze once eyes were on him. He looked as if he wanted to say something.

Peter glanced between the criminals. They're eyes were shifting around one another, silent conversation between understanding minds and he quickly realized that his presence was stopping them from their conversation.

"I should go check up with the team." Peter said, standing. Neal looked up at him and Mozzie side-stepped out of his path. "Call me Neal, if you need anything." He said and Neal nodded. "I will."

"Take care of him." The Agent whispered as he past Mozzie. The shorter man gave him a quick nod and it was silent until the door closed.

Mozzie's gaze was locked on Neal and blue eyes met his. "Moz-" He couldn't even finish before he got almost got a lapful of the other man. It was a tight hug, and Neal returned it. Mozzie didn't want to say anything, didn't want to know anything.

"Welcome home."

Neal smiled, the hug got tighter.

He was released after Mozzie had managed to gain control of himself. He sat back against the couch, not looking at Neal after the sudden outburst. Hugging didn't often happen between them, but he had been...worried.

Mozzie glanced at him, nodded once, and then looked around again. "I think we have a puzzle to finish." He said quickly, getting up and heading to the table. Neal shook his head slightly, a small playful laugh in his chest. "I'm going to shower first." Neal followed him in the direction and Mozzie pulled out a seat. "Okay."

Neal took a few more steps before pausing and turning around. "Moz?" Eyes looked up at him expectantly. Neal stepped forward, hugging him again. "Thanks." It was an appreciation for a lot of things - being concerned, not asking questions, and always being his support system for well...everything since they met, whether it was a crazy scheme or a bad day. Mozzie hugged back, the same thank you.

After a moment they let go of eachother and Neal headed to his shower as Mozzie took his seat.

-x-

* * *

><p>There's Chapter Eleven(: It's 9:20 so I'm going to go do a little bit my Literature homework and finished up some more make-up work from the days I missed school and, you know what, I'll have Chapter Twelve up later tonight since I think you guys deserve it. I'll get that one written tonight too. So, yeah(: Review please! I hope you guys enjoyed it!<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Hey Guys(: Here's Chapter Twelve, as stated. Enjoy! Review please!

* * *

><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Twelve.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> Still hoping. Maybe I'll put them on my Christmas List.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to try harder to figure out what it is.

Peter had gotten back to the office, walking up to the conference room and immediately asked his Agents what they knew.

"Is Neal-" Diana looked up at him.

"With Mozzie." He answered quickly. "Is Sam-"

"No location." She said, handing him a case file.

"And Roy-"

"Waiting for you in interrogation. He just got finished with booking. Good timing." She handed him his coffee mug, full.

Peter gave her a smile.

-x-

After two hours Peter just wanted to give this up. Roy wasn't talking. He wasn't doing much really, except taunting Peter with phrases like '_You'll never catch him_', '_You won't win_' and '_I hope you hang on to that criminal of yours_'.

Peter was looking at the smirking face infront of him, taking some pride in the darkening bruises that were around it from Neal - the kid did a damn good job.

"You're going away for a long time." Peter said with satisfaction. Roy glared at him. "Whether you help me find Russo or not, I don't really give a damn, but you - you won't see daylight again."

Roy then gave him a sick smile. "You think I don't know how your tactics work Agent Burke? Scare me with sentencing, oooh. isn't that...FBI 101?" Roy teased. "Not a tactic. I will not make a deal with you. I don't care what you choose to do. You will spend the rest of your life locked up in a cell no matter what you tell me, helpful or not. I'll spend _one_," Peter held up his finger, "more minute here, letcha think about it, after that. You'll be escorted-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know where I'll go." Roy smirked. "I can't believe Neal hasn't called you yet."

Peter didn't let his curiosity show, there was something that was telling him to check his phone now even though it hadn't rung, still wondering where that comment had come from. "Hell, I can't believe you left the kid alone."

Burke kept his temper in check. "Come on, Petey." Roy smiled at his impromptu nickname. "You honestly think Sam was going to wait to get Neal back? Even after your little show? Please. He doesn't have the patience."

"What is your point?"

"My point is - he broke out of jail to get him and, where ever you left that shitty thing of a kid is exactly where you will find Sam. Right about..." He waited a few moments, looking at his watch teasingly, before that damned smile came back. "Now." It took everything Peter had not to lash out and add a few more bruises after the insult but Neal's safety was what was on his mind now. He glared at Roy. "Get him out of my face." The officer by the door reached over, dragging Roy up and the douchebag in handcuffs mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Peter asked. Roy met his eyes. "I said that your little worthless son of a bitch deserved it." It was an impulse, lapse in judgement and only lasted a second, but Peter's fist was against Roy's jaw and the criminal was caught by the officer holding onto his arm without the ability to take in air. Peter didn't even stay in the room long enough to see his team's reactions.

-x-

After speeding to Neal's place, only breaking a _few_ traffic laws and violations, Peter ran inside. There was a crash distantly upstairs and Peter's team was up behind him. "Go." He instructed without sound, immediately getting to Neal's section of the house.

Peter didn't wait, didn't count, didn't clear a single other room before running through the loft door and holding up his gun. Jones and Diana fanned out behind him, guns up.

Both Mozzie and Neal stared at them, eyes wide. There was a plate - the snack plate from earlier Peter noticed - on the floor, in pieces.

"I didn't drop it! You have no evidence!" Mozzie yelled, reflexively throwing his arms up and all the way above his head. Neal's hands were defensively up as well, not as high, and he stared over at Mozzie. A look of 'what the hell did you take' on his face as he shook his head slightly and dropped his hands.

Peter quickly apologized as their guns were lowered. "Is...everything...okay?" Neal asked slowly, watching closely as their guns were placed back on their belts.

"Just...making sure you were okay." Peter said. Neal was about to say something before he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned slightly.

"You can put your arms down now, Moz."

It was silent for a few moments, Mozzie looked at Neal then at each Agent individually, then lowered his arms back to his sides with a skeptical look.

"Peter, what did I tell you about scaring Mozzie?" Neal asked, looking at the group of Agents, actually smiling.

"I wasn't scared!" Mozzie protested from beside him. "Oh! You should've seen your face." Neal laughed slightly, imitating Mozzie and meeting his eyes.

Peter sighed, cutting their laughter. "Roy thinks Sam is coming back."

Neal's face fell, relaxing mood leaving him and he looked over at Peter with anxiousness. He swallowed hard and the Agent regretted taking his good mood away from him. Mozzie looked over at Neal, concerned, silently asking what he wanted to do. "I uhm..." Neal bit into his bottom lip. "Excuse me." He disappeared behind the door that lead towards his closet and bathroom.

Mozzie watched him leave before looking at Peter.

Peter met his eyes before looking at his team. "I want patrol around here tonight. No one gets inside this house that we don't know about." Peter ordered quietly as he looked at Jones and Diana and they left to set it up and grab the van.

"What should I do?" Mozzie asked.

"Stay in here with Neal."

Mozzie nodded. "I can do that."

-x-

Hours passed and nightfall came quick, without any sign of Sam - which should be classified as a good thing but Peter wanted to catch this bastard. Jones, Diana, and him were in the van on the corner close to June's house. Peter desperately wanted to be inside with them but he knew that if Sam noticed he was there then there would be no chance and him showing up and them catching him.

Cameras were outside, inside, and mics were placed inside the loft - when Mozzie had run back...to wherever he stays...to grab a few things for the evening, otherwise someone, probably Peter, would've gotten a tangent about Big Brother being able to watch - which no one wanted.

They had the place surrounded and within the van was an eerie silence as they watched Neal and Mozzie's movements inside, feeling a bit guilty because neither con knew about the surveillance equipment - Neal hadn't come out of hiding until a little while ago to know.

No one knew what to say - to comfort eachother.

No one knew how to react to the whole situation. They didn't want to.

-x-

At the table inside, Neal had arms folded and his head down ontop of the table. Mozzie sat across from him. Neal didn't move and he frowned slightly.

"How bout those Yankees?" Mozzie asked with attempted excitement, sipping from his cup of tea.

"Moz, you don't watch baseball." Neal commented. Mozzie frowned slightly at the exhausted sound of his voice. "Red Socks?" He tried. "That's another baseball team." Mozzie's thumb played with the handle on the mug, ignoring that fact. "I made tea."

"No thanks, I don't want any."

Mozzie placed the cup down. "I didn't make tea for you. This is my tea."

"Then why are you telling me?" Neal asked as he turned his head to the side, facing away from Mozzie with eyes still closed, to move his neck a bit. He'd been in the position to long.

"It's a conversation starter."

"That's a terrible conversation starter." Neal said, lifting his head only slightly and giving him a look.

"Oh? Is it? We're conversing." Mozzie picked up his cup and took another sip with a smirk. "Checkmate."

Neal shook his head, placing his face back down into the fold of his arms. "What are you still doing here, Moz?" He turned his face away again.

"To comfort you of course." Mozzie looked down at him, about to place his hand on his back before pausing. "No no, that's not going to work. I'll comfort you from over here." He stood, moving seats to sit on the other side of Neal - the way he was looking - and took a seat.

It took a moment but Neal lifted his head, hair falling slightly against his forehead. He gave Mozzie a skeptical look and Mozzie shot back a smile. It got Neal a laugh and that's really all Mozzie had wanted.

Neal sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Can I ask you a question? I didn't want to ask Peter." His voice was laced with uncertainty. "Sure."

"You're not gonna...get mad at me, are you?" Neal asked. Mozzie met his eyes, trying to understand. "I just...Moz, when I was in the car with him. I..."

"You were scared."

"Yeah, but. I _relaxed_. I mean, I...come on, I fell asleep..." Neal leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out. His hands came up to rest on the table and Mozzie sat closer. "What is it Neal?"

"I...I started thinking."

"Congratulations."

"No," Neal smiled a bit at the interruption, "I mean. I...I was thinking about _him_. But..." He couldn't find the words. He didn't know how to explain it without sounding crazy. "He said something." Mozzie watched him expectantly, waiting for the rest of the thought. "He...he told me I...I was safe with him..." Neal's eyes fell to his hands on the table, fingers playing at one another in an attempt to distract himself.

"Neal, you know he was just-"

"I know. But...I started to think about it. And...God...Moz...he...he wasn't being _him_. He was...being gentle. And...right."

Mozzie gave him a confused look. "What?" He asked.

"I know. It sounds crazy but...he...Moz he was acting different. It had caught me off guard. But...he was _right_."

-x-

Back in the van, the team exchanged looks. Peter felt worse now for listening in on the conversation. It was obviously something Neal hadn't planned on sharing with him.

But, what the hell happened in that car?

-x-

Mozzie was looking down at his friend, their eyes meeting, the expression on his face still not understanding.

"Think about it. Remember, the beginning? Everytime I got hurt, Sam had always appeared. Out of nowhere. And...and..." Neal looked away again. "After...he...after _it_ began...everything...changed." Neal desperately tried to explain himself and it took a few moments but Mozzie sat back.

"You think Sam was keeping everyone else from hurting you?" Mozzie asked.

Neal sat up straight, wrapping his arms around his abdomen and looking down with embarrassment. "Neal-"

"I know. It's stupid and crazy. And I just...forget I said anything. It's nothing-" Mozzie's hand came up to his shoulder, stopping his rambling. "It's not crazy."

Neal looked up at him. "Like I said, he was just acting completely different."

"How so?"

"He...I dunno, just...holding my hand and being almost _caring_ and...telling me to relax, that he_ wanted_ me...and not hitting me...and, yeah." Neal's voice trailed off as his hands moved to his lap.

Mozzie watched him with quiet understanding and knowing that Neal didn't want talk about it anymore.

"So, how bout that tea?" Mozzie picked up his cup and Neal laughed.

-x-

* * *

><p>So, so, so. Chapter Twelve. That's two tonight! (And, just saying, Big Bang Theory kicks ass) Plus I finished my make-up work! Be proud! Goodnight-morning since It's around four am -Guys(: Review, please. I sleep better when I get those...<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

Hey Guys(: Here's Chapter Thirteen! Review if you'd like.

* * *

><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Thirteen.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I don't own them.  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to try harder to figure out what it is.

**Author's Note** :: Like I said before, this won't be Slash and by the way, changed the rating (From T to M) after thinking about it because well...the...whole basic story line...haha, Enjoy(:

After another two hours, six cups of coffee and a bag of chips, Peter was close to passing out from being overly exhausted. There hadn't been much movement around the house, other than a neighbor walking their dog about an hour ago. The Agent's eyes were hurting from staring at the screens for so long and he leaned abck in his chair, groaning as his spine made unnerving popping sounds. His eyes drifted shut, it was supposed to be a blink, he would sleep if he wasn't freaking out. He didn't know how long the blink had lasted but then Jones was calling his name. He was back on the edge of his chair, checking each of the monitors feverishly. Jones pointed to one, downstairs, inside.

"Go." And with the order, they were back in June's house, back up on the way, with guns out for the second time that day.

Peter immediately went to Neal's section of the house as Diana cleared the ground level and Jones went to clear the other side of the mansion.

-x-

Neal couldn't sleep. He wasn't sure he actually _wanted_ to, terrified of what his mind would show him, and Mozzie was more than willing to pull an all nighter with the fellow con.

Almost finishing off a bottle of red wine, this was their third game of chess and Mozzie was positive that Neal was cheating - and he'd figure out how.

"That piece wasn't there a second ago!"

"That's the piece I just moved, Moz."

Mozzie made a disagreeing noise and Neal just laughed.

As Mozzie ran through every possible move he had with each piece before throwing his arms up. "I need the bathroom." He muttered as he stood from the table. "I'll get another bottle." Neal commented. Mozzie nodded and disappeared behind the door.

While pouring the second bottle into their glasses, there was a knock on the door seconds later - causing him to look at it with fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

Was it Peter? Did he come back to check on him? - Why would he come back this late though?

"_Nealie_..."

His breath stopped short - that's not Peter.

The sound of a lock sliding out of place doubled in loudness and took his thoughts away. Suddenly the door was open, Sam standing there. "You shouldn't lock doors Neal, it isn't nice." Sam smiled, lock picking equipment in his hand. He stepped forward and Neal would've been scared - _would've been_ - if Peter wasn't behind Sam, gun a few centimeters from the back of his head.

"Take one more step and it'll be the last thing you ever do." Peter's hand twitched, wanting badly to pull the trigger.

"Ah. Peter, Nice of you to join us." Sam met Neal's eyes and Neal noticed they were different from before Peter came in. Sam looked calm, too calm, like he was expecting Peter to show up at the moment. A bad feeling fell over Neal. He couldn't tell if it was nervousness from the current situation - Sam in the house - or if it was a warning that the situation was going to become...worse.

There was quick movement and suddenly Peter had pain in his jaw, the taste of blood in his mouth. Neal was grabbed from out of nowhere and was pressed to Sam's chest, an arm against his throat.

Yep, that feeling meant worse.

Diana and Jones had entered the room, positioned on each side of their boss, and Peter had returned to his aimed stance with more anger than Neal had seen.

"Sam." Neal choked out, hands tugging at his arm to loosen the grip and Sam slid the pressure off of Neal's neck - being replaced by the silver sharpness of a switch blade. The room fell quiet.

"Aren't you gonna tell them, Nealie?"

Neal kept eye contact, Peter saw the fear had been replaced with a sort of softness and he couldn't understand why. He watched as Sam's shoulders relaxed behind the con even though there was still guns aimed at his skull.

When Neal said nothing Sam met eyes with Peter. "You're not going to shoot me, Peter." The knife was removed from infront of Neal and now pointed towards the leading Agent.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You can't. Not with Neal here." Sam smirked, pulling Neal closer.

"You know, I never thought you'd betray me, Neal. Set me up with the feds - that's just low and unfair. Atleast I think of you! I know you don't like guns so, I didn't bring one. However, look at all your little FBI buddies. They all have guns!" Sam's voice dropped to directly next to Neal's ear. "Pointed. Directly. At. _You_." His voice had dropped to a menacing level and Neal's couldn't stop the small amount of moisture in his eyes. The con tried to take a deep breath to calm himself but he felt the edge of the blade pressed more into his skin and immediately stopped.

Sam's chest relaxed against him after a disapproving sigh. "I did everything I could for you, kid. I made sure no one hurt you. I can protect you Nealie, don't you see that? Your chosen group of Agents here can't even protect you from me. How sad is that?"

"Sam, don't do this." Neal's voice was quiet and Sam smiled against his cheek.

"I'm not going to hurt you Nealie." The con felt the breath of the whisper on his beck and shuttered involuntarily.

"Let him go." Peter demanded.

Sam chucked. "Now, why in the world would I ever do that?" He wrapped his other arm around Neal's waist, bringing his hips in against him. "Is that what you want Neal? Me to let you go?" Sam asked.

"Please, Sam."

"Please, what?" The knife was pressed closer - daring him to try and say anything - and Neal couldn't respond. "See. Neal doesn't want anything."

"Sam. I swear to God. I will put a bullet through your head."

"_Ohh_, I bet." Sam tested. "You won't shoot me, Agent Burke, there's n-"

The sound of a single shot rang throughout the loft and the house.

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><p>So, Chapter Thirteen. Yay! (: It's my brother's birthday in less than half an hour - he's turning twenty-one - so I'm gonna go downstairs and wake him up with silly string at midnight. Goodnight everyone. Review please, Love you guys!<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

Hey Guys (: Hereeeee's Chapter Fourteen. I hope you enjoy it! Please please review.

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><p><strong>Title ::<strong> Neal's Secret - Chapter Fourteen.  
><strong>Disclaimer ::<strong> I do not own White Collar. (but, I will steal it if I get the chance. hehe.)  
><strong>Summary ::<strong> Trust is questioned between Peter and Neal when someone Neal knew gets brought up. Neal's trying his hardest to hide something, Peter just has to try harder to figure out what it is.

**Author's Note** :: I wrote this whole chapter while listening to Hollywood Undead songs. Just thought I'd share. It's not really an important note...On with the story!

Neal's eyes opened slowly, the sound of the shot from Diana's gun still ringing in his ears causing everything else to fall silent. He couldn't see right, most things were blurred but there was a glimpse of Peter running towards him and it registered in his mind that there was something wet against his side and once he looked down all he saw was red. The body beside his was being handcuffed and struggling against Jones' strength.

There was a distant yell for a medic and then his name was called. His mind shifted through the blurriness and confusion and he saw Peter almost clearly at his side now, helping him sit up. The Agent had immediately pulled him across the floor, away from the other criminal, and Neal clutched to the fabric of shirt infront of him. Sam was yelling now as Jones pressed a towel against his shoulder - where he had gotten shot, Neal guessed. It wasn't through and through, just a graze across his upper arm. Sam's outburst was looking a lot like Roy's and Neal began to feel uncomfortable curled on the floor so close. He tugged at Peter's arm and the other man immediately helped him up.

Peter stood with Neal close by his side, as Jones pulled Sam to his feet. He was breathing harshly, Neal couldn't tell if it was from anger or pain. Sam's devilish eyes locked with Peter's.

"You will _never_ see daylight again." Peter said coldly. Neal glanced at Peter before immediately looking at the ground, unable to look at Sam. There was a feeling of guilt pressing down on him again - the feeling of causing this whole mess in the first place.

"What makes you think I won't break out again?" Sam threatened. Neal's eyes snapped up at that, terrified of the possibility. Peter had noticed and Sam smirked at Neal's reaction as well and at that moment Peter had lost it. He threw a swing, catching Sam right in the mouth with enough force that Diana heard the contact from her position by the door. Peter shook his knuckle, a bit embarrassed, as he returned it to his side - Sam's jaw was harder than he thought - but he made his point. Sam breaking out was not _ever_ going to happen. Jones had chuckled at his boss and Sam used the momentary distraction and broke from Jones grip, pushing the young agent to the floor roughly and going after Neal, anger in his eyes. Peter stepped over and Sam was centimeters away until the sound of breaking glass filtered through the loft and Sam fell to the floor, unconscious. The broken blue glass around him looked familiar and Neal noticed it was one of the vases by his bathroom.

He looked up to see Mozzie, wide-eyed and hands pressed firmly to his sides. "I didn't do it." Mozzie said quickly, taking a step back. Neal couldn't help but smile and Peter shook his head.

Jones had stood up, helping the medics get Sam on the stretcher and out of the house - cuffed twice, and to the stretcher itself, this time for all precautions. Neal stood close to Peter as his nightmare was wheeled out, a sort of safety coming from the other man that Neal had wanted. Peter noticed Neal stepped closer beside him and put a firm hand on his shoulder, reassuring Neal that he was there for him.

As Diana had followed them out of the loft Neal looked down at the broken glass and dish still on his floor, happy that Sam's blood wasn't also part of the mess. It was silent for a few seconds before Mozzie sighed. "I'll clean 'em up." Neal and Peter smiled as Mozzie passed them and walked out the door.

Peter looked at Neal, the con's eyes meeting his as he looked back up.

"I think we need to burn that shirt." Peter commented. Neal glanced down at the spots of blood against his side and nodded. "I agree."

-x-

Neal had changed shirts as Mozzie cleaned up the mess, tossing the blood stained one into the trash with a sort of triumphant smile on his face. After ten minutes of convincing, Neal had finally persuaded Mozzie he could go home and that he'd be fine alone, plus he wanted to be. He needed time to sort this out and think without a hovering Mozzie over his shoulder. Mozzie made him promise to call if he needed anything and Neal agreed to the terms as long as Mozzie wouldn't come checking up on him. After a few moments of thought, Mozzie nodded and left Neal to calm himself down.

As the night got later, Peter returned to Neal's place after processing Sam - giving him hell for a good half hour just for the fun of it. He found a some happiness in the fact that Sam was going to go through his own nightmare experience of prison.

Neal opened the door to a pajama-wearing Peter with a small case of beer and a bag in his hand. After a quizzical look Peter handed the bag over to him and Neal pulled a small blue vase out. "I figured it would need replacing."

The con rolled his eyes with a chuckle, allowing him to come in and Peter set the six-pack down on the table. Peter let out a sigh at the familiar sound of opening his beer and Neal sat beside him with a predictive glass of wine.

"What's going to happen to him?" Neal asked.

"Preferably, death, but since I don't have a say in _that_, prison for now. Where he will be held in a box the size of this table with no sunlight or human contact for the rest of his miserable, _miserable_ life." There was a bit of pride in Peter's voice as he sipped from the tip of his bottle.

Neal nodded slowly. "Why?" Peter asked. Neal took a deep breath, unsure if he wanted to voice his thoughts - wondering if he even knew how to. Peter saw the conflict in Neal's body language and leaned over the table to get closer to him.

"Neal, I get it." The con looked over at him. "Everything you're thinking right now - wondering what you did to deserve it, wondering if you should feel guilty or bad about this."

Neal's gaze dropped but Peter leaned closer, knowing that meant he did.

"You don't have to worry about this Neal. You never did anything wrong." Peter swallowed. "I heard what you told Mozzie." He admitted. Neal immediately looked at him, panic across his face. "What you're thinking...he...he was trying to get inside your head Neal. He wanted you to believe that he was your only option - your only way to be safe - but, that's not true. He was what was putting you in danger. He's manipulating and just...a dangerous person. You know that. The things he said to you were to get you on his side. They were to make you think like this. You can't let him win."

Neal looked at him and Peter could see he was still mentally fighting himself from both sides of the argument. There were a thin line of tears against the conman's lashes and Peter put a hand on his arm. "He's not coming back. I promise. You're safe, now."

That's what broke Neal, those words - Peter's promise, and a sob escaped from his lips. Peter brought his chair closer and put his arm around Neal's shoulder. "I gotcha, buddy." He whispered.

Neal wiped at his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just...I can't..." Neal let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Talk to me, kid." Peter said, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

"Is...this..." Neal shifted in his seat a bit, looking over at the protective agent. "...really over...?"

There was a silence that fell over them at that moment and Peter looked directly at him. Those blue eyes were passing through hope, uncertainty, strength, and fear as Neal's voice fell timidly from his lips - much like that small scared child Peter swore he saw in those eyes some days. The Agent took a breath, placing his beer flat on the table.

He was sure Neal's mind was a million miles away in an attempt to sort out everything that had happened, everything that was going to happen, but for some reason as they sat there at the kitchen table instead of feeling worried for what they were going to have to work through, or guilty for allowing it to happen, or pity for it actually happening, Peter felt like something around them was lifted. There was an understanding between them, much clearer than the one before this, and Peter could only think that they _were_ going to work through this, things _were_ going to get better, and they _were_ going to make it, as he met those blue eyes with more than just strength, but certainty, a promised understanding that he would never let this _ever_ happened again.

Peter made sure his voice was strong enough to prove to Neal what he was saying as he reassuringly squeezed the cons shoulder once more.

"Yes."

-x-

The End.

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><p>Well. There it is. Chapter Fourteen wraps up this story. I really hope you guys enjoyed it, I enjoyed writing it. Please Review, that'd be awesome, don't have to tell you how much I love those things. It's a little after eleven, I actually finished a chapter before midnight! Haha, Goodnight Guys. Love you all.<p> 


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